...is that I truly can't cook. I know, that's a crazy thought...someone with more estrogen than testosterone not being able to cook, but it's true. All of these years I always figured it was just bad luck...or forgetfulness...or something other than just being a failure. Every time the macaroni water boiled out of the pot and burned the bottom, every time I spent more time chewing the chicken than cooking it, every time the casserole came out looking like veggie soup...I just thought the recipe was bad (no really, I've seen some bad recipes).
Tonight I attempted to follow my mom's [damn good] recipe for homemade turkey burgers. I SWEAR I followed the instructions to a "T". I even went and bought a George Foreman (WalMart $18) so that I could do exactly what she did. Yet rather than enjoy some tasty, juicy, cheesy burgers, I got to eat some mushy, over onion-ey, probably not-thoroughly-cooked mounds of turkey mush. Sigh. I give up. I'll marry a good cook or learn to eat take out for life (low sodium though...sodium is bad people).