This blog is dedicated to those of us who love to look at (and eat) awesome things but lack the ability to make them ourselves. I’m always getting these great do-it-yourself ideas from design blogs and food magazines – Spray-painted clothespin mirror frame! Curried eggplant with rice! Papier-maché taxidermy! And hours later I find myself picking freshly-laid cat turds off the clothespins I set outside to dry and shamefully hiding my sack of eggplants behind the Velveeta Shells and Cheese display I’ve raided after unsuccessfully searching for saffron for the better part of an hour. (If you’re wondering, I STILL do not know where to find it. I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of Narnia-like situation going on where I have to throw myself at the back of the baking aisle shelf to open up the portal to the world of exotic spices, where Aslan will appear and lead me on a journey to the ingredients for Indian rice.) As for the newsprint taxidermy, I may as well try and build a fully functioning time machine out of the Sunday comics.
I was recently sent to the store for the fixings for sweet potato fries and came back with a couple of yams. Not because I thought they would taste better than sweet potatoes, but because I thought they were the same as sweet potatoes. Which wouldn’t have been a big deal if I wasn’t cooking the meal with Dave, whose kitchen intensity could only be rivaled by, say, Gordon Ramsey with a raging case of hemorrhoids being forced to sit on a hot grill and watch a KFC chef fry up a double down in grease scraped off the floor. And only then if the entire scene was shot by Michael Bay, only with more yelling and explosions. (I jest. Dave is an excellent cook and somehow restrains himself from punching me when I do bonehead things like scratch the bottom of his pans with forks.)
Anyway, when I had to admit that at the age of 27 I did not know what a sweet potato looks like, I realized that mayhap I should make an effort to become a bit more domesticated. Not in the sense of “barefoot in the kitchen with dinner laid out on the table every night,” but in the sense of “being able to use the stove without the help of a professional and/or wizardry.” Maybe even being able to complete a do-it-yourself craft project that I can display without people assuming it was made by a blind refugee and purchased for charity.
I plan to tackle these projects and post them here so that, when I inevitably fail, we can all have something to laugh about.