I was suddenly possessed by the spirit of Martha Stewart over the weekend. Yeah, scary, huh? I felt so domestic to the point that I decided to cook my sisters and cousin a hearty dinner.
They complained and objected the idea, but I insisted. I might have even threatened them a little. But I told you, I was possessed. Even on Saturday as we went grocery shopping, I could not contain my excitement. Running wildly from aisle to aisle, I picked up pasta and spaghetti sauce and tom yum soup paste and mushrooms and carrots and potatoes as if my life depended on it.
Anyway, everyone was pretty busy on Sunday so I offered to make baked pasta for dinner. It wasn’t rocket science, really. I was a little ashamed that I couldn’t impress you more by saying I made, um, risotto with scallops or something fancier like that. But perhaps you would be slightly impressed too by ‘baked pasta’, right until I told you how simple and easy the process actually was. A 5-year old kid could make that too. And then, your impressed-face would disappear as fast as my money after payday.
All I did was washing, chopping, boiling, mixing, adding sauce and salt and tada! Putting it in the oven and voila!
Hey, don’t look at me that way. Actually I enjoy cooking once in a while if there’s an occasion and an audience (even though I would have to force them into eating it.)
The problem is that I’m a lazy bum who would rather sleep and wake up to a well-prepared, all-ready, take-away food than cooking it from scratch.
Well, nobody’s perfect.
(Are you holding back the urge to throw up? Cos I kinda am.)