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I am not a chef. My first experience in cooking was when I was about five or six, when I tried to make vegetable soup using grass, some earthworms I dug up from the backyard, and a scoop of gravel from the driveway (it was supposed to replace salt). I thought it would be a good soup, see, because I had the veggies (grass), I had some meat (the earthworms, a poor substitution I know now) and I had the seasoning (the gravel). I thought it was a fantastic idea. I thought I was going to be a pioneer in culinary arts.

Until my cousin who was forced to drink it had to be sent to the clinic the next morning.

Since then, I have thought of many more revolutionary ideas and have executed hundreds of borderline retarded acts, and one fact stubbornly stood out amongst the rest: I am shit at cooking.

And I’m not exaggerating. I’m talking about the kind of terrible of dishes that can generally be considered as ‘poisonous’. Like when I tried to bake my friend Mel a brownie cake and it tasted, and I quote word-for-word, CANCEROUS. (Or was it a soft brownie? Technically, can a brownie be considered a cake? Or can a cake be a brownie? I don’t know. I wouldn’t know, BECAUSE MY BROWNIE SUCKED THE SHIT OUT OF A POOPHOLE.) Or like that time when I made salads with eggshells because I was trying to be avant garde. The only thing avant garde about the salad was the way it looked in the trash when my aunt chucked it out after a sniff. Or like last night, when I gallantly promised my aunt that I would spend my evening cooking $50 worth of prawns for dinner, but then we all had to eat egg sandwiches instead. It was messy, those prawns. And they died for nothing. My only hope now is that they would look down upon me from prawn heaven and shake their long whiskers (which, I cut off rather unceremoniously last night, but I’m hoping they will get them back in prawn heaven anyway) and understand that sometimes, a girl has to do what a girl has to do, and sometimes prawns have to die in a cause to allow said girl to discover certain facts about herself and post them online.

So without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, I would like to share certain tips on what NOT to do whilst cooking:

1. On looking at a brownie recipe and seeing that only ¼ teaspoon of baking powder is required:

DO NOT THINK TO YOURSELF, “Oh my god, why is it so little? They probably made a mistake. Baking powder looks just like flour, so it’s not fair that it gets so little play in the making of a brownie. I’m going to put equal amount of flour and baking powder because my kitchen is a democratic place.” *Cue Baking Gods looking down upon me from heaven and shaking their heads. God 1 will say to God 2 that ‘this girl is a shit head.’*

A/N note: FUCK DEMOCRACY. YOUR KITCHEN IS NOT A DEMOCRATIC PLACE, YOUR KITCHEN IS A CONCENTRATION CAMP, THE PRINT OUT RECIPE IS YOUR FUCKING FURHER, AND YOU ARE A NAZI SOLDIER TASKED TO HAND OUT UNFAIR TREATMENTS TO YOUR POOR UNSUSPECTING SUBJECTS. i.e, listen to the fucking recipe.

 

2. On baking brownie

Do not mistake deg Fahrenheit for deg Celsius. Sounds simple, but you have no idea how many sticky mucks there are out there who forget about this fact. I am one of them.

3. On frying nuggets

A/N note: Frying nuggets have to one of the simplest things to do. Just pop them in the oil and sieve them out when they look golden. If you manage to screw this up, call me SO WE CAN HAVE SEX AND MAKE CULINARILY CHALLENGED BABIES TOGETHER.

Do not think to yourself, “Oh, while this is frying, I’m going to read a few pages of this great book.”

“Wow, this is interesting. Nuggets still frying? Alright a few more pages then.”

“Interesting.” *flips more pages*

“Really, really, good.” *flips even more pages*

“Love the way the characters converse. How wonderful is this life? Just me and an empty house, a glass of iced tea and the sweet, sweet, smell of KITCHEN BURNING THE FUCK DOWN FUCK FUCK FUCK”

4. On making salads encased in eggshells in an attempt to be avant garde

Don’t make them. No. Don’t. Don’t make the salad. Don’t boil the water. Don’t fucking think you can put salads into shattered eggshells. Goddamn it, don’t even touch the fucking eggs.

5. On making brownies: part 2

Don’t make brownies either. Just buy them and pretend that you baked them while doing yoga, typing out your work reports, and being Martha Stewart.

6. On cooking stir fry:

Oil goes in first. Not the ingredients. Don’t try to be a ‘dry chef’, dry chef being the term you envision being called when you become famous and get onto the Oprah Show due to your creation of a cooking technique whereby the vegetables are cooked first and then oil is added in the last. You will burn the vegetables, you will burn the wok, and you will get grounded by your aunt.

7. On cooking rice USING A RICE COOKER:

Remember to put in water. Refer to previous lesson on being a dry chef. Do not be dumb.

8. On working with prawns:

Wear gloves. Do not sing “Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe” to prawns, it’s rude. Do not think it is okay to put them into the oven. Do not deep fry them when they’re dripping wet. Do not volunteer to cook them for a group of 14 people, because 14 people will probably starve and have to eat egg sandwiches.

9. On making sushi:

Use a sushi roller. You are not god, your hands are not god, neither are the ingredients, so do not fucking squeeze the rice, seaweed, and pickles together with your fist and expect a roll.

Have a good week y’all!

Love,

E

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