cooking: what’s up with that?

Several months ago Rachel and I had a conversation in which the point was made that if someone were introduced to both of us and told one of us cooks and knits while the other is a black belt, they would categorize me as domestic and Rachel as a terrifying stealth machine (which she is, but not technically a black belt).  In reality Rachel knits sweaters almost all the time she’s not at work, and I used to be really good at kicking (if not at stealth). But now, how the times are a-changin’: last night when Rachel called I was in the middle of sewing together a tote bag.  Only hours earlier I’d made chicken tikka masala for dinner, thus introducing Indian food to my highly skeptical parents.

Today at work I spent some time rearranging books, including several cookbooks that I could not stop looking at.  I barely know how to cook, but I wanted my paycheck in hand specifically to buy the books on lunches and on brownies.  (An entire book of brownie recipes!!  Who knew there existed so many different kinds?)  Then later, working in a different department, I found myself checking out skillets.  What is going on?  I presume this is a sign of maturity; I didn’t expect it to set in so quickly.  Where have gone the peanut butter on bagel or and Easy Mac of yesteryear?  For dinner I ate leftover chicken and naan with hummus.  Guys, I am turning into Rachel.  Soon all I will have left of my original personality is monopolizing conversations in order to talk about A) the Romantic poets or B) pop culture phenomenons from the early 2000s.

Then again, this new domesticity has an upside.  Last night at three a.m. I ended up watching an infomercial for a grill, one in which a middle-aged woman cooked an omelet made of corn dog materials.  Seriously –– she poured corn breading into the grill mold and then stuck hot dog pieces into it.  Gross.  And then I realized, my stomach full of tasty Indian food, that there was a time (if in elementary school) that I would not have thought a corn dog omelet disgusting; I would have watched that infomercial and thought, “Delicious and easy to make! AWWWWWESOME!”

So at least there’s that.

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