How do you know your boyfriend thinks you’re hopeless in the kitchen? When he looks at the Brita pot in the fridge and asks you – before he leaves for a week of work in London – if you think you’ll be able to handle keeping a constant supply of filtered water while he’s gone.
He is a very generous person. Probably the most generous person I know. But man, does he have trouble sharing his kitchen!
Dear kitchen: I’m looking forward to a week of reacquaintance. What should we start with? My poulet chasseur? My linguine with leeks and Pernod? My chicken pot pies? My… eh… How does take-out sound?
Never mind. My sister just invited me for a sushi dinner tonight. Kitchen, I’ll see you tomorrow.
Then again… This might just be the ideal week to start a diet.
I thought you could invite someone else to make your kitchen jealous or just spend more time in another room, but it all ends short when you think that everyone on this planet must eat.
Even if you start a diet or order some take-out, the kitchen will still stare at you with a twat look that says « I’m still here. Don’t even think about forgetting me. » The worse is the look « I am more patient than you are ».
This is an hopeless situation. You better start cooking.
Are you getting thirsty yet?
;-)
Be the kitchen. Embrace the kitchen. Be one with the kitchen. The kitchen will be your friend, if you let it.
Now turn on that stove, and go for it. Remember, the kitchen doesn’t care at what temperature you heat your croissant.