My wife cooks. I can't cook. I can remix leftovers pretty good, though.
I can chop and peel vegetables but can't cook full meals.
I've never cooked. I can't do much more in the kitchen than make a cup of tea and some toast.
I'm not a strong cook. I can do the crockpot; that's about it.
I couldn't cook. I could put a pizza from Iceland in the oven, but that was it.
We hand the meat over to Greasy Sae in the kitchen. She likes District 13 well enough, even though she thinks the cooks are somewhat lacking in imagination. But a woman who came up with a palatable wild dog and rhubarb stew is bound to feel as if her hands are tied here.
I'm not terribly good at three-page recipes - I tend to skip bits - or anything that involves marinating things in juniper berries.
I must confess, I'm not the best cook. I make a mean salsa, as I like hot sauce and, you know, tacos, because I'm a California kid, and that's about it.
I don't have the talent, the temperament, or the patience to be a great chef. I'd much rather order from someone who can really do it. I love restaurants. They make my life better.
I can only cook brown rice and vegetables, so I don't get too many people coming over for dinner parties or anything.
I love to cook. But I have some food allergies, so I have to contend with those.
