Stacey

How was your weekend?

Mine was chill and lovely. I like to be busy, but I'm learning how to take things at a slower pace and enjoy the moment. I've read that living in the moment makes one much happier. I'm starting to believe it. We really do have a choice in how we react and how we handle situations.

Anyways....

Since moving to my new place, cooking has become much more of a daily thing. I have always thought I was a good cook. I'd always list 'cooking' on my hobby sheet or use it as one of the things I like to do in a job interview. But recently I've started having second thoughts. Perhaps I thought I was a good cook because I was better than most of my roommates. Anyone that eat more than a frozen burrito and/or packaged food was deemed gourmet. But I'm starting to think that I can no longer put 'cooking' as a hobby. The last few things I've tired cooking have been complete disasters. In fact, my Ramen consumption has spiked because of it.

Over the weekend, I tried to make yummy fresh tacos. I thought, "homemade tortillas are so yummy, they can't be that hard." Perhaps I should have recognized the bad omen...I had people over (bad isn't describing the people). That should have made me smart enough to put a frozen pizza in. Cooking for people always makes your cooking go badly. As my endeavor progressed it only got worse. The tortilla's were a no go. My avocado turned out icky. My lettuce was gone. So we had cheese, corn, and chicken. Can we all say "yummy". It was horrible. I felt stupid.

Then a few weeks ago I had fish, strawberries, and spinach. I thought it would be lovely to have raspberry-pecan crusted fish with a fresh salad. Good thought right? Not so wonderfully executed. Because of the jam in the nut mixture, it turned the pan into a black smoking mess. All the pecans fell of and the fish was in pieces. I couldn't even bring myself to eat it.

The list goes on. But the point is, I feel like I've lost my touch or perhaps never had a touch. This has been a hard blow to my foundation.

But alas, I decided to give cooking one more chance. My opponent: Mr. Homemade Bread. I have an extreme frustration towards the bread family. Don't get me wrong. I would love to eat bread all day; cinnamon rolls, scones, bread sticks, orange rolls to name a few. But when it comes to making it, it always ends in a mess and a vow never to try again. But for some reason, I felt like if I could make bread than all was not lost. So I called my mom for the recipe and decided to put on my big girl cooking apron. Did you know bread is kind-of a process? Maybe that's why I got frustrated in the past. But I was good and followed every step 100%. I even set an exact timer. I was a little hesitant at times. But guess what? It worked. My bread, made by my own hands actually turned out. I'm not even joking. I somehow managed to make two lovely loaves of whole wheat bread. I was so excited I had two hot slices and then one made into a fantastic BLT.

My confidence raised the roof. I suddenly had dreams of making cinnamon rolls and scones. Perhaps bread every Saturday :) Ok, the point is I didn't fail. The point is I made bread. The point is maybe I'm not so horrible. Perhaps I've just been out of practice and should start by following recipes until I get my groove back. The point is....I have hope.

So if you're in the area, try following your nose and it might lead you to my house for fresh bread.

Happy Monday!