Women Who Hate To Cook

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

I approach cooking as if it isn’t a science (which it is), but as if it is my car (which it is not). I don’t think about cooking until I am hungry, and I don’t think about what went wrong until the food is already cooked. I also am not concerned if I don’t have an ingredient, because (I think) I am the master of substitutions, which is a lie I tell myself to avoid facing reality. I also don’t think about my car until something goes wrong; until a light tells me I need to change my oil, or that my tire pressure is low. I don’t get gas until my car beeps at me, and I once had tires so old the threads were showing. I didn’t realize my threads were showing until I got a flat tire on my way to work, which I also didn’t notice until my boss pointed it out, “Sarah,” he said, “did you know you had a flat tire?” What a ridiculous question, honestly. After that, I purchased a AAA membership, and I also started scheduling oil changes every three months, whether I needed them or not.

Sometimes I feel bad for being a bad cook, especially since I’m dating a man who might like if I cooked for once. I actually did cook for him once, and he couldn’t stop telling me how nice it was. “It was so nice having you cook for me,” he said, with his feet up and a glass of white wine in his hand. Of course it’s nice, I thought, which is why I like to be the…