I have a theory about cooking. Despite what many people (particularly those who cook) claim, it’s NOT simply a matter of “following the directions.” Even the most rudimentary recipes love to toss around cooking terms that non-cooks struggle with. What exactly is a “pinch” of something? Would that be like a tiny, baby cheek pinch, or a big ‘ol butt-grabbing pinch? And how much of something is a “smidgen?” Or a “scoach?” And every recipe includes at least one instruction to “sprinkle to taste.” How the hell would I know unless I lick the bowl as I go?? Of course, if you DO get actual measurements, they’re often flexible. This doesn’t work for us. “One-half to one tablespoon” just makes non-cooks crazy. Which is it, dammit? One half tablespoon or one tablespoon?? It’s your recipe. You tell me.
One year, Kenny made the unfortunate choice to get me some huge binder called “The Joy of Cooking.” (Yeah, like he got lucky THAT night.) Every recipe called for more ingredients than I have in my house in an entire year, and after the third try of a ridiculously complicated side dish (got all the way to the bottom, and it read “Pour sauce over top before serving. For sauce recipe, see page 322.” SERIOUSLY??), I frisbee’d the stupid book out my back patio door and onto the soccer field next door. Poor thing got run over by a large rider mower and has now gone to confetti heaven, where it belongs.