Some of you know that my girlfriend, Ari, has an amazing food blog. She takes pictures of what she snacks on and sometimes the great meals that she makes us.
Well, she’s gone until Thursday and unable to blog until then.
Being The Good Boyfriend that I am, I decided to do a little food post in case any of her readers needed their food blog fix.
So last night I made A Meal.
I did this by drinking first.
If you look hard enough, you can see my reflection in the wine glass. I was wearing a t-shirt and boxers.
In case you didn’t know, this is how all great chef’s cook – half drunk and in their underwear.
The Next Step involved veggies. I picked broccoli and mushrooms.
Do you like how the knife was sitting on top of the veggies?
I knew you would.
This is called Placement. Or maybe just Me Putting A Knife On Top Of Pre-Cut Veggies.
When I was done slaving over the veggies, I made some Quinoa.
Quinoa is Spanish for Stuff That Looks Like Rice But Isn’t Rice.
I know this because I have Knowledge.
When the Quinoa was done, I put it and the veggies into a skillet and cooked them.
I added some curry sauce that may have came pre-made from Trader Joe’s, but a true chef never reveals his secrets.
Or is that magicians? Being a magician is A Sad Thing, isn’t it? I mean, who the fuck cares about making stuff disappear? Wow – you made a quarter come out of my ear. Give it back to me before I punch you in your unaccomplished face.
More on magicians in another post, I’m sure of it.
Here is a picture of The Meal.
While I was cooking it, it occurred to me that it kind of looked like someone puked in the skillet, but at least that person was eating their veggies.
I ate it and I watched the NBA playoffs and I was A Happy Man.
I know that some of you are extremely jealous of my cooking skills now. And this can be hard to take.
But just know that I too struggled at one point in my life to cook A Fancy Meal.
And if you take anything from this food post – anything at all – please know that cooking in your underwear can be fun.
Just make sure your neighbors can’t see you through your open curtains and you’re not singing along to Eddie Money as you do it.