Monday, January 30, 2012


I hate when I cook for people and they alter my fucking food. Like this weekend I had carrots in my fridge that I was never going to eat because carrots, well, carrots are like one of those books like "the secret life of bees." I'm aware it exists and I hear people talking about it but am I ever going to read it? No, and I don't know why, I just know that I'm not. Carrots are like that except nobody talks about them because they're boring. Anyway I didn't want to throw these carrots out so I roasted them with some garlic and onion and then I stuck it all in a blender with some broth and cream and shit and made soup and it was delicious. I had to make some for my mom, pretty much just because I knew she would ask for the recipe and I could be like BITCH PLEASE, I DON'T USE RECIPES, and everyone's heads would explode in wonder at my culinary genius. Except what actually happened was that my mom told me it was interesting. When someone tells you something is interesting it means they hate it and they don't give enough of a fuck to feign enthusiasm. I know because I tell people that things are interesting all the time. "hm, interesting," I say, ten thousand times a day. Anyway I know my carrot soup was not interesting so I asked her what the fuck she was talking about, and it turns out she put ginger in it. And it probably wasn't real ginger, it was probably powdered ginger that expired in 1994 because she's a hoarder, which we can talk about another day. She probably didn't even taste it before she put ginger in there because if she had WHY WOULD SHE HAVE PUT GINGER IN THERE. Here's a secret I can tell you from when I used to be a consultant. If you have a super intense job interview like say you want to be a CEO or something and they take you out to dinner afterwards they are going to watch to see if you do shit like salt your food before you taste it, and if you do they aren't going to hire you because clearly you are an idiot. Haha, like any CEOs or future CEOs are reading this blog. What was I even talking about. Oh, if I make food for you and you alter it in any way I will never make you food again. You don't ask someone to make you food and then add shit to it, it's insulting. Would you go to Alinea and tell Grant Achatz to hold the foam on your fucking weirdo experimental food from the future? You probably would. And yes I'm comparing myself to the chef from one of the best restaurants in America, possibly the world. My boyfriend that I'm married to puts ketchup on everything I make, so now if he ends up dead you know I killed him and why.
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