I love cooking. I cook almost every night even if it is only something simple. I like to sort everyone else out first then the kitchen is mine. There I am, pottering around, chopping a chilli, slicing an onion, crushing a garlic glove, grating a lemon. I’m not taking the pith by the way.
I find the whole thing therapeutic. Ok, ok, the odd glass of wine or two (three!) helps. I often wonder though whether I could do it as a profession. I cook for friends and family but could I deal with the pressure of a commercial kitchen?
I’ve been watching the current Masterchef series and can see how hot, sweaty and pressurised it all gets.
I have thought about entering. If I ever did get through to the first rounds you wouldn’t see me in a panic. Oh no. A few chops here, a few slices there, as sprinkle or two then straight in the oven.
The rest of the 45 minutes I’d spend drinking my wine and watching Masterchef on the portable. Imagine John and Greg. They’d be mortified.
By the way, if you want one of my recipes let me know.
14/02/08 @ 23:54