Can versus do

[pbray]

I made chili today, using my new crockpot. Those who know me well will know what a milestone this was.

I don't normally cook. That doesn't mean that I can't, just that I don't.

Or rather I didn't.


When I was in college, I shared a house with three roommates and we all took turns cooking. I turned out to be a good cook (and a better baker.)

When I left college I originally started off trying to make dinner each night, but the difference between cooking for four people and one person is huge. There was dealing with leftovers, not to mention a punishing schedule that meant I never knew if I would be home at a reasonable hour or so late that I didn't feel like cooking. I grew used to buying fresh food that went bad before I had time to cook it, and gradually stopped cooking meals. (Buy me a drink at a con and I'll tell you about the green spaghetti sauce that was left in a refrigerator as payback for someone who'd annoyed me.)

I migrated to eating frozen dinners, and after some experimentation I found a few that I could stand. And that's how I lived for over a decade. I was always grateful when someone made me a homemade meal, and would cheerfully cook dinner when I was staying with friends who had stocked kitchens, but if you came to my house, you'd find only soup and cereal in the pantry.

Then two and a half years ago I gave up eating frozen dinners. Cold turkey, so to speak. I started to make a few different meals at home. Nothing fancy, whole wheat pasta with sauce from a jar, black beans and brown rice mixed with salsa, etc. I had four dishes in rotation, but I've gradually outgrown these. (Note that pasta with marinara sauce is something that I could eat every day for a month and be happy, if I wasn't vaguely concerned that I ought to be getting a little variety.)

So today I made chili, one of my favorite foods. Vegetarian black bean chili to be precise, and it came out well for a first try. There were leftovers naturally, so I know what I'll be having for dinner for the next three nights. Which was the plan, since I have to work the next few nights.

I talked to a couple of friends this afternoon, who were surprised to hear that I was at home cooking. They think of me as someone who doesn't cook, and assume this means I can't--that I'd need advice on how to boil water or use a measuring cup.

It's not that I can't cook--I'm perfectly capable of it, including a traditional New England Thanksgiving spread (as a Sullivan on my mother's side, turkey is part of my base operating system.) But I just don't cook-- I don't enjoy it the way that so many of my friends and family do. Sometimes when my sister calls to share one of her culinary discoveries, or I read my friendslist as they recount the meals they've made, I'm in awe of their talents. And I wish that I lived closer so I could invite myself over to share the fruits of their labors :-)

But that's not me. Oddly enough, as I count through my friends and family, almost all of them enjoy cooking. So it's clear that I just need to invite myself over to their homes more often.

And perfect that chili recipe, so I can return the favor. Or possibly a stew--it's heading towards winter in these parts, and there's nothing better for a winter night than a good stew and a nice red wine.

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[melissajm.livejournal.com]

People even buy it at our annual chili sale for charity, which stuns me.