Cookin'

My college major was Hotel & Restaurant Management, which meant that I took a fair number of cooking classes. However, as my real pipedream Quixotic quest was to open a night club (and H&RM was the only major that seemed remotely connected to such a scheme), I really didn't pay much attention or apply much retention to what I was taught regarding food.

When my last maid, Toom, left in October, she took with her a passable knowledge of Western cuisine, leaving me alone for a short time with my bachelor approach to cooking. (Open refrigerator. Take out various bits and pieces. Heat it all in a skillet. Add spaghetti sauce. Eat.)

When Toom was replaced by Go, it wasn't much of an improvement. Go is from the deep dark recesses of Northeastern Thailand, where food consists of immensely bitter alien vegetables mixed with a sauce that smells variously of dirty shoes, vomit, or poo.

Thus, I have had to turn to the internet to search for menu items that I could attempt to cook, with Maid Go assisting, watching, and learning. Recently we have added spaghetti carbonara, penne à la vodka, and egg drop soup to the list of dishes for which I can shout a request down to the kitchen. Now we are attempting to figure out how to properly season and cook fish.

NO! Don't tell us. We are having fun figuring it out on our own.