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The perfect deal... Or not?

I never liked cooking. I never found myself 'inspired' to find the perfect mixes.

The only thing I learned at home was 'chicken pineapple', something my mom figured out, and which frankly speaking I would not be able to reproduce today.
You must be wondering how the heck I survived until now.
Actually I am wondering too...

Technorati Tags: cleaning, cooking, food, home

As far as I can recall, at my second year in Gent, I lived in a 'kot' with only vegetarians, which turned me into a vegetarian as well. (Read: they were all very good cooks).
2 years later, my sis moved to Gent, to study, and for financial reasons, we had to share an apartment. She's a very good cook too.
On top of that I worked at a magnificent place, where a cook made meals for us at noon. Then I moved to Israel.
The first year, well, I am wondering. I think I ate a lot of pasta and half of the time I lived with a Palestinian family who fed me really really well. (Did I tell you Palestinians have really good chicken dishes? Actually I gained a lot that year)
The second year, I moved in with Sigal, and she's like this Maroccan mom, who could not accept 'not eating', so I gained even more.
I returned to Belgium, with a strange unidentified disease (proably 'don't-know-where-home-is-anymore-sickness') which made sure I lost most of the gained weight and more. Even though my mom tried to really feed me well that year (I lived back home)
And then I returned to Gent, and since I became independent, I had the privilege to ask for 'restaurant notes' which are magnificent costs. One of the major advantages of being independent. So I spent a lot of time at restaurants. Which compensated largely for those days I didn't or forgot to eat.

And then I met this girl.
I was quite stunned when she offered to cook food for me.
So stunned. Because to me, it is such a burden. I get stressy all over, because, maybe, it isn't 'tasty'.
But she kept on cooking. And I mean, really great food. Simple yet, delicious and well presented. (Important detail she taught me...)

I made a deal with her: she could cook. I would clean.
Cleaning is easy: it takes your mind of everything. You don't need to think what to buy, how to prepare it, and if things will burn.
She smiled, and I smiled.
(And we both felt like we made the best deal.)

And then I started feeling guilty. I mean: she cooked an awful lot. And really nice. Darn, I wanted to cook as well for her. At least once.
So she surprised me with a Jamie Oliver Book.
And I cooked.

And now ladies and gentlemen, she has something to worry about...
As if I saw the light: I get into the super market, I see something and the rest I see are 'possibilities'. (This is truly an enlightenment to me.)
I mean, I am not cooking anything fancy at all. DIfferent sorts of pasta, and very basic stuff. Not spectacular at all. But I cook.

And then the question raises: if I cook, who'll do the cleaning??? ;)

*Jip the pasta above was made by me, today. I actually made a Flickr Home Food Set to get her worried :P (which implicates I really need to keep on filling it of course...)
**Mom, dad, you are supposed to forget what you just read and saw. To you guys, I'll always stay the person who cannot cook.

Posted on April 17, 2007
in Living in Belgium

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