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Cooking Night the First


Last night was my first weekly cooking night. As a college student, my typical diet consists of soup, toast, mac and cheese and take-out. Realizing this was perhaps not the ideal human diet, I resolved to cook an actual meal at least once a week, both for the sake of my nutrition and so I can actually learn how to cook. As this was the first week of this new tradition, I stuck to something I knew.

Whatever could this be?
Whatever could this be?

Cooking and I are not fast friends. We do have a history- during my childhood I periodically fixed dinner, and the deal with my ex boyfriend was that he’d buy the food and I’d cook it (because – and I am not kidding- he couldn’t even handle cracking an egg or opening a bag of pre-packaged salad without facing down culinary Armageddon). Unfortunately, neither situation compelled me to expand our relationship between the most glancing of acquaintances- as a kid the nights I cooked were Taco Nights, and the ex had the strange compulsion to eat the same thing at every available meal for months at a time.

Chicken Fajitas!
Chicken Fajitas!

Fajitas are not tacos, but they are still strongly seated within the “Tex Mex” category. I decided, though, that as I haven’t cooked them for over a year (since before the aforementioned ex moved out), they’d make a good start- a way to ease myself into the habit. Dan appeared to approve.

Mmmm, Chicken Fajitas
Mmmm, Chicken Fajitas

My hope is to start posting recipies with these Saturday Night ventures, but as the big secret this time was “follow the instructions on the back of the seasoning packet” I’ll restrain myself. (My secret hope is to turn this into a social event, like my buddy Joe’s Friday Afternoon Soup-Fest, but I think I’ll have to improve my cooking first. Dan = Lab Rat.)

Next week, I’m thinking Asian. Preferably a dish with lots of veggies and no rice- perhaps Thai. This is not so much totally new territory for me as dangerous territory- all of my casual tries at stir fry or anything similar in the past have ended with abject, un-tasty failure. Any suggestions?

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