The other night, I came close to actually cooking. I told this story to a friend and it sounded so much like an odd LJ post I figured I would share it here.

As some of you who know me might know, I don’t like eating. This leads to not liking food or cooking. I can cook, I use to be really good at cooking but when I had to start preparing about 6 meals a day, it got old really really fast. I have become the Freezer Queen, frozen dinners and I are buds. The last couple of years have seen a decrease in even what little cooking I did do. (no more stir-frys or tuna noodle casserole)

I made grilled cheese sandwiches ala Spice (the person with a nickname not an actual spice, just so you know).

I put a pan on the stove on medium flame to heat up.
I found an onion in the fridge (anywhere from 3 months old to maybe a year, don’t know but it is still good. I love food like this), cut slices up and put them in the pan. As they kept trying to burn and taste bad, I added water and caramelized them. Yum.
While this was going on I buttered bread (are you impressed yet?). One with butter up and the next with butter down (yick, butter sandwiches). Slices of cheese go on top of this. Then, the now-cooked onion. (funny looking butter sandwiches)
Plop, all but the bottom piece of bread go into the heated pan to be topped by the bottom (confused yet). This cooks and gets squished with a spatula until golden brown (only one burned spot).
I also made backed beans. Yep, opened a can, poured them in a pot and waited until they boiled. Done!
I had a soda in a glass.

So, I used a frying pan, a sauce pan, a spatula , a spoon, a knife, a cutting board, a plate, a glass, some silverware, and a napkin. That counts as cooking, right?

And to think I use to be a prep cook. Ha.