There's a fire in the kitchen!

As I mentioned in my past entry, I want to take cooking classes. So yesterday, I signed up for them. I will be taking classes at L' Academie de Cuisine starting this Thursday for the next 3 weeks.

For those of you who know me, you know that I cannot cook to save my life. I once burned a microwave dinner. I blame the microwave and the directions on the box. They were confusing, I swear I’m not an idiot! It read something like cook on high heat, then cooks on medium heat. It’s my roommate’s microwave, so I also blame her. I didn’t know how to use it, so I just kept hitting a bunch of buttons till I thought I got it right. I went back to watching TV, waiting for this yummy goodness that was to be my dinner. Ten minutes roll round, and I’m thinking to myself, I wonder what’s taking so long. Finally the damn machine beeps and my yummy goodness that was supposed to be dinner is burned and shrunken. Not really sure how it happened, but it did. Stoopid microwave.

I have ruined spaghetti on two, count them TWO different occasions. The first time I boiled the spaghetti for half an hour. Not really sure why I did that. Maybe I forgot about it, or maybe I thought that was how long you were supposed to boil it for. Either way, the spaghetti turned to mush. Ooops, my bad. The second time involved me cooking a pound, yes I said a pound just for myself – don’t laugh I didn’t know I only needed a handful, and then dumping the entire pound into the sauce. Needless to say I did not make enough sauce to handle the pound of spaghetti. The noodles ended up soaking all the sauce and my spaghetti tasted like poo. In my defense I was on the phone with a friend and he suggested that I dump all the noodles into the sauce (he just didn’t realize that I cooked a pound of spaghetti). Never asking him for cooking tips.

I have survived living on my own for the past 3 years by either having my roommate cook dinner (she’s an amazing cook), going out to dinners, take out, cereal, glasses of wine for dinner, and trail mix. My old co-workers are amazed that I’m still alive. My one co-worker felt so sorry for me, that she would bring in her leftovers so that I had something to eat. I’d loved it. It meant that I didn’t have to eat cereal for dinner.

Since my roommate is moving out at the end of this month and I won’t be able to rely on her to feed me, its time I learned. And as my male friends like to point out to me, I’m useless. But so are they! This should be interesting. I told my mother, and she IM’d me (hahaha, her friend’s at work got her on it, and its great cause she IM’s me the most randomest shit sometimes) (imagine her speaking in an asian accent) Baby, I so excited for you cooking lessons. Now you can make me dinner. Poor woman.

I'll keep everyone updated on the classes.