When I log into WordPress, I head over to their main page, a process that entails seeing the “Freshly Pressed” collection of blogs that are oh-so-subtly named “The best of 361, 690 bloggers.” They may as well say, “See these blogs? They’re way better than yours. Somebody actually reads them.”
And if you look only a little more closely (don’t worry, you don’t have to read them all; just look at the pretty pictures and read the big, bold words), you’ll note that many of these posts are about food and drink. Which, of course, makes sense. People like to eat and drink.
So blogging about how to sip with sophistication and what to add to your sauce to perfectly infuse it with flavor makes sense. It’s interesting and appetizing.
Alas, my cooking abilities are, well, a bit less refined.
I have a little hope. My father’s cooking abilities have aged like a fine wine.
Though we were never a McDonald’s drive-through family, I do remember “yellow dinner night,” a hearty and delicious dinner of fish sticks, fresh from the freezer, honey to dip them in and corn. Mmmm. And then, we’d wash it down with a swig of Ecto-Cooler … remember that stuff? Slimer from the Ghost Busters endorsed it … augh.
Now he adds caramelized onions, sautéed mushrooms and merlot to his spaghetti sauce. He makes his own chili and adds a pinch of sugar to counteract the acidity of the tomatoes.
So maybe I have the gene … somewhere.
Just don’t expect me to blog about it.