What part of life confuses you the most?
It has to be cooking. For someone who likes to eat so much (you may take that in every sense of the phrase possible), I don’t like cooking.
Menus are complicated – and show me one that requires n ml of flour and I run crying to the Hub, beating myself around the head with a ladle. How can a dry ingredient be weighed as a wet one?
While I’m on the subject, how much is a teaspoon? I have [hang on a minute; just going to count them] thirteen varieties of teaspoon and each one is a different size and shape to the rest: do I use a large, medium or small one to add my vanilla essence? If I don’t crush the garlic will it matter? How can I know that a soupcon should have a tail on the ‘c’ but not how much it actually is? Will all the snot and tears that accompany the preparation of each meal in this house affect the taste? How much butter is too much on a slice of bread if you want it to be both healthy and tasty? How can you tell when something’s thoroughly cooked unless you burn it?
Then there’s the oven: my last stove was a category C and it took two hours to bake fairy cakes in it. My new one is a fan oven and all of my fairy cakes so far have had to be recycled as fish tank gravel.
Cooking: what’s that about?
I have the funniest readers in the blogosphere (not necessarily ha ha…)