Cooking For Dummies

I so appreciate a fabulous home cooked meal. I learned how to cook when I got married. I managed to survive college on takeout and generous roommates. I just didn’t really have an interest in it, to be honest. When I got married, I felt like I owed it to Big D to learn. But, in the first year of our marriage, my mother happily provided us with leftovers ala carte. She’s a great cook, so that arrangement worked well. When Big D and I hosted our first dinner party, my grandmother and mother did all of the cooking and that was all fine and good until my savvy guests asked me on the spot how I made certain dishes. I hadn’t a clue, and I didn’t even know enough to fake it. My answer: “Who wants another martini?” Maybe if I got them good and drunk, they wouldn’t notice. After that night, I realized that I had to get serious. I whipped out the cookbooks I received from my wedding and got cooking (literally). The most amazing part was that I wasn’t that bad. Okay, so there have been quite a few mishaps from then until now, but the overall result is healthy and slightly sophisticated fare ala Cooking Light and Williams Sonoma. I’m thinking about all of this having just made a peach bread pudding. The pungent aroma is beckoning me from the oven in its semi-cooked glory. I guess my problem with cooking, and everything in general is that I crave instant gratification. Having to marinate something overnight just kills me. You could imagine how I felt my entire nine months plus of pregnancy with both of my boys. There’s so much waiting. I have no patience. Who wants a piece of bread pudding?