Tuesday, November 2, 2010

C+ for effort

Earlier this fall I came home from work one night and found two giant gourd-like things sitting on our kitchen counter. I dropped my bags on the floor, picked one up and turned to B, "ooh what are these?"

"I don't know. I think they're gourds. Our neighbor dropped them off."

"That is SO cute. Gourds, huh. For, like, decoration?"

"I guess so. What are you going to do with them?"

"I dunno. Decorate."

So I placed the giant vegetable back on the counter and that is where they sat for weeks. When I bought a pumpkin for Halloween I moved the gourds to the front step next to the pumpkin for what I considered some festive decoration. And there they sat, outside our front door, for another week or so. Until my father-in-law came over and inquired as to why, exactly, we had two butternut squash sitting on our front step.

"Oh. I didn't know these were squash. I thought they were for decoration."

And that's when I learned where B got that "B look" he does when I do things like accidentally drop the R word in public or pass out on the front lawn or insult the neighbors. So I brought the squash back inside and placed them back on our counter. I'd been contemplating how to cook them ever since.

Every time I passed the butternut squash in the kitchen they taunted me. Every time I threw a frozen pizza in the oven or warmed up some pre-made Trader Joe's stir fry or ate a bowl of cereal for dinner, they judged me. I had to do something extra special with those squash. Should I turn them into some delicious roasted butternut squash soup? Or how about baking them up with some sweet potatoes? Maybe I'd go wild and stuff them with peppers and breadcrumbs.

Finally last night on the way home from work I decided THIS was the night I was going to cook those squash. I was going to dominate that kitchen and make something delicious. I was going to go Fannie Farmer on errbody's asses and when B got home from work and the warm smells of fall cooking and delicious spices overwhelmed him he would scoop me in his muscular arms have his way with me right there in the kitchen and this was going to be AWESOME.

To start, I grabbed the biggest knife I could find and started chopping. Not sharp enough. I grabbed another knife and went at the skin again. Still, not sharp enough. What the fuck, this was hard. I grabbed a third knife and, determined, cut away the outer skin. My muscles strained as I scooped out the seeds and chopped the squash into small chunks.

Forty five fecking minutes later, I had manged to chop up both squash and I only cut one finger. I threw all the pieces into a pot and boiled them, then mashed them up with butter, ginger, nutmeg, brown sugar and milk.

DONE. I had a pot of delicious mashed butternut squash. Now what? Should I bake up some fish? Make a salad? Add another vegetable? Fuck no. I just spent an hour making mashed butternut squash. I was exhausted. So I ate a bowl of mashed squash, washed it down with a fist full of leftover Halloween candy and was passed out on the couch before B even came home. Sexy homemade meal FAIL.

Honestly, I don't know how these Rachel Ray types do it. And what about the women who have things like "children" to care for while they make their delicious home cooked meals? It was Monday night and I was still hungover from Saturday. I CAN'T EVEN TAKE CARE OF MYSELF.

All I had to do was not burn the house down and even that was a bit too taxing for me and I was pretty sure I was going blind from my two-day hangover at the same time and YOU try cooking while you're going hangover blind. I can't even imagine going through all that effort, like, five times at once to make a complete meal. I only made one side dish and that took, like, an hour. Christ, how am I ever going to host something like a Thanksgiving? BEING AN ADULT IS SO HARD.

All I want to do is cook frozen pizzas and eat Halloween candy and wave my Magical Adult Wand -- no, not that kind of Magical Adult Wand -- and have that frozen pizza turn into a fully cooked homemade meal of mashed butternut squash and pan seared swordfish and asparagus and gravy and homemade apple pie for dessert! This post is making me tired just writing about cooking all that stuff. And hungry. Now I'm tired and hungry and I don't have the magic cooking wand powers to do anything about it. GAH.

Who wants cereal?

Speaking of "being an adult" and "doing the right thing" and "not passing out on the front lawn," it's election day so don't forget to vote. That would be a real dick move. For dicks.


Hippo Brigade said...

C+ for effort but A+ for making homemade baby food. Your future babies will be so well fed.

Bridget said...

@Hippo Brigade I've been eating baby food?! Well that makes me feel ... oddly okay actually. Baby food for dinner tonight!

LiLu said...

Every time I decide I want to actually MAKE a dinner and google through the "quick and easy" recipes... and then I stop and pick up a frozen bag of stirfry on the way home.

rory said...

Baby food and halloween candy. Sounds like you've got both of the food groups covered.
B'll be so proud.


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