Cooking: The Struggle

“Hello, my name is Jess”

(Hi, Jess)

“I am 23 years old and I am afraid of cooking”

I do not like cooking. I’m not sure I could even tell you exactly where this aversion came from, but it’s there. Every time that I think about cooking I get anxious, I procrastinate, I find ways around the problem. (Chipotle is a great way around the problem.)

It’s not that I don’t love food, because I do. Baking doesn’t make me cringe the way cooking does. And if I am cooking with another person, who can tell me what to do and how to cut the vegetables, when I need to stir the pot or turn down the heat then it’s fine! But cooking alone? Like I might as well be cooking in front of Gordon Ramsey for my life. So I die in that situation… in case that wasn’t obvious.

Now that I am living on my own, however, cooking is a necessity of life. I understand this fact and I know that my strange fear of cooking will have to be tackled at some point. Last week was the first baby step.

But before I could even get to being in the kitchen, I had to go grocery shopping. Have you ever been grocery shopping alone? I mean, not just going to the store to pick up some stuff for you and your roommate or family, but truly shopping alone, just for yourself? You’re probably not surprised at this point that this scared me too.

You know, I have performed on stages in front of hundreds of people where I am well aware that they are watching me; this is totally fine. Walking around the local Ralph’s with my shopping cart and list felt like a performance that I was severely under prepared for. In reality, people probably hardly notice me, just like that day of my job interview at the cafe. But in my head I’m thinking:

Oh my God they know, they all know that I am shopping alone for the first time! Every time I put something in my cart they look at me like, “Oh, you think it’s a good idea to buy that? That’s what you’re choosing? Wow. You must know nothing about grocery shopping.”

That thought itself is ludicrous! As if there is really a very wrong and very right way to grocery shop.

Perhaps the fact that almost every time I go to a grocery store multiple employees ask me if I need help reaffirms this feeling that I look like an idiot when I try to be an adult. I’m sure that these nice people are just doing their job, but still. And I guess I do have a tendency to look too long at something on a shelf when I’m debating whether or not to buy it because I am already self conscious. I probably do look like I need help.

Well, I learned a few things after that first shopping trip. Mainly, that I bought way too much food. I grew up in a house of five people and just didn’t realize how little food you actually need for one person. I decided that my first attempt at a meal would be chicken tacos, so I bought four peppers and two unions. That was far too many. It’s been almost a week and I still have leftovers. In the end grocery shopping alone was fine, but like anything I think it will take practice.

When it came to the concept of cooking my chicken tacos, I thought “yeah, I got this! You just cut the chicken and throw it in the pan with some seasoning, and then you sauté the peppers and unions and it’s no big deal!” Sure, I could talk my way through it. Actually doing it? Very different.

Nighttime slowly descended upon Burbank and it came time to cook my food so that I could eat and be a normal human. So what’s the first thing I do? Naturally, I called my mom. It was almost 11pm her time and she was getting ready for bed, but bless her heart she stayed on the phone with me the entire time.

I began my cutting up my raw chicken, which was the part of the meal that I was most nervous about. PSA: raw chicken is disgusting; more specifically, touching raw chicken is disgusting. I was almost discouraged from ever eating meat again. Perhaps that’s a bit over dramatic but it was seriously unpleasant and very slimy and cold. I said “ew” in a squeaky voice repeatedly but got through it!

Once the chicken was in the pan, things went pretty smoothly! I had to cut the vegetables after I cooked the chicken which I know now should’ve been done before hand. My mom suggested that I use two peppers and one whole union so that they wouldn’t go bad on me and the pan was nearly overly flowing. But they cooked down, and eventually I had in front me of a meal; that I had made.  Behold:

I was pretty proud of myself. I had taco meals for days and definitely could do some things differently for next time, but I did it. The thought of cooking something again still makes me nervous, but at least now I know that it’s not impossible. I even sort of enjoyed myself at times.

Since I made the tacos I have not cooked the dreaded chicken again, but my next goal is to do some sort of chicken and pasta dish. Perhaps with a nice alfredo sauce? We’ll see how ambitious I’m feeling.

For last night, I decided to go with a simple lean cuisine microwaveable dinner! And some raw carrots…

Like I said, baby steps.