I won’t roll you up: I don’t like. I could complete the sentence saying, “… but I turn around.” Or, “I hate making rice and beans, but preparing a moqueca over the weekend is a therapy.” Or, “I really like it, but it’s not, it’s art.” None of these is my case. I don’t like to cook, I don’t know how to cook and I’m angry with those who think I should learn how to make a easy to prepare.
My whole problem is patience. In fact, the lack of it. For example, I have no bag to wait for the oven to preheat. How can you look at an enlightened and empty space is called cooking? Another: I can’t stand having to guess when the cake is ready. One of the reasons is that the instructions are inconsistent: they tell me to stick a toothpick to see if it is good, but at the same time, it cannot open the oven to the non -solar cake. How does this puzzle solve, Rita Lobo?
I admit that Airfryer is a hand on the wheel, especially for people like me. But there is a detail that plagues me: having to turn, for example, the chicken wings. The question is the lack of obedience: I stuck the fork in one of them and I turn. When I’m going to the next, just slutty, the first one deviates and comes back to the same place. Imagine doing this in 12 small pieces of chicken. Then I bet on the obedient and disenchantment of the naughty. Result: They get raw below. Still in the wave of protein, frying steak is another challenge. My son likes the wicked medallion. At first it seems to me an advantage, since I don’t have to stay in front of the stove. Ledo deceit. After putting the steak in the frying pan, I start to have a mini anxiety crisis to find out the right time to get it out. Of course I do not hit, and he goes out toasted or moving.
Macarrão is easy, right? If you call pasta, then I am promoted from laziness to sous-chef on time. But I usually lose myself in the first step. Accompanies: I take the pan, fill water, put in the fire, play a thick salt, I move with the wooden spoon and do what? I’ll pack my room. When the shoes are all in place, my stomach snorkers, I widen my eye and I realize that I completely forgot that it’s time for dinner. I run to the kitchen and find a pan with half a centimeter water. Life Game: Return a house. Still on carbohydrates: Avoiding to lose weight is one thing, not liking a good carbo is deviation of character. I’ll talk about that dish that say it’s very easy, but you need a monastic patience to do: the risotto. I hear that it is a social dish, to cook taking a wine and talking to friends. I think it’s great as long as I’m part of friends.
They say that whoever cooks does not wash. For me, no problem. I ride a dishwasher that is a beauty. I wash a little crazy with your foot on the back, because, after all, rubbing a parsley -cut board does not compare to the pleasure of eating a beautiful feijoada.
*This text does not necessarily reflect the opinion of the young Pan.
