Tara's Potatoes

I hate cooking.

I'm a grazer so not cooking has suited me. Hard boiled eggs, avocados, apples, cheese, grapes, sardines, potato chips and peanut butter are staples. But, for the last several years I've attempted to cook but, unsurprisingly, those efforts have ended in self-sabotaging disasters. The timing is off and everything's cold. The simple recipes are bland and boring. And, on the rare occasion that I master a dish, I get bored to tears making it.

But, tonight I made baked potato slices that turned out great. I call it "Better than French Fries"

Here's the recipe written for true beginners:

Ingredients to serve 2 people:

3 medium sized red potatoes
olive oil
salt and pepper

Here's what you do when:
Wash the potatoes (I use a little dish soap but make sure you wash it all out)
Cut the potatoes in half, parboil for 8 minutes = put potatoes in water and bring water to a boil. Once the water boils, put on a timer for 8 minutes
Preheat the oven at 350 = turn on oven for 10 minutes before putting the potatoes in
Cut the parboiled potatoes into wedges (3 wedges per half potato)
Put the parboiled potatoes in a bowl and lightly coat with olive oil and a little salt & pepper
Place on a non greased cookie sheet with room between the potatoes so they don’t steam up and get mushy
Bake for 25 minutes to ½ an hour depending on how brown you want them (hint: you’re looking for the browning on the side of the potato sitting on the cookie sheet and NOT the side facing you
Once the potatoes are brown on one side, turn them over and cook for another 15-20 minutes
Serve the crisp and delicious slices like french fries with ketchup, mayo or mustard

Chard and Pasta

My mother gave me this terrific recipe for Swiss Chard and Bow Tie Pasta. I substitute Kale for Swiss Chard b/c it's cheaper.

Chicken Charlie

Last night as my head was in the toilet and my guts were in the bowl, I thought maybe it was a sign that I shouldn't be in the kitchen preparing meals but should limit my visits to getting a cold Coke out of the fridge. It was the first time that I'd cooked for friends in a long time (and that was an accident involving a surprise visit). I hate cooking b/c I'm not good at it. There are lots of skills that I master, but cooking has never been one of them. Chef's are considered artists, but we're supposed to pick up a sauce pan and, with no training or calling, make meals.

The recipe is from "Summer Express: 101 Simple Meals Ready in 10 Minutes or Less," that was in the The New York Times. It's fried chicken strip sandwiches. Easy peasy. But cooking makes me nervous. I don't trust food and am terrified of raw chicken and I'm sure that everything is spoiled. How many fights have I had shoving a milk carton under my partner's nose saying, "Smell that. It's bad."

I had even practiced the meal on my parents over labor day. I called the dish "Chicken Charlie" b/c, while we prepared the sandwiches, my mom was telling a story of when she and my dad were looking for the Mickey Mantle sports bar in Boston. They came to the address on the Google map and my mother read the signature on the bar's sign as "Chicken Charlie" and asked my dad, "Why would they put another sports bar right here next to Mickey Mantle's?" She bought commemorative cups with Mickey's signature on them and asks everyone, "What does that say?"

"Mickey Mantle."

Chicken Charlie went fine at my folks', but that was with my mom handling the chicken, cutting out a nasty looking tendon from the strips that she says makes them tough. I just dredged the strips in flour and plopped them in hot oil. Even with a splash guard, I got smacked a lot. Between the sputtering oil and my "Ouching" and "Damning," it was loud food prep much like in a professional kitchen. I've seen cooking shows. So, I made the chicken sandwiches for friends last night. I tried to take the tendons out but, between touching the chicken and the dull knife I was using, I pocked my finger. It didn't break the skin and no blood was drawn but I was so freaked out about what COULD have happened that I fried them tendons and all.

Everything went well. Chicken Charlie was a hit.

Then, I woke in the night feeling queasy. I tried to open a box of Alka-Seltzer but it was too late. Hello toilet bowl. I was sure I'd killed our house guests that, hours earlier, were laughing and enjoying what little time they had left in life at my kitchen table.

My partner found me passed out this morning under the toilet bowl covered with bath towels, hand towels, small rugs and wash clothes. (I was cold. They were near by.) My partner called our dinner guests and they're fine. It turns out that I was right. Cooking makes me violently ill. Told you.