Can't Cook, Won't Cook

I can't cook to save my life, and I'm not ashamed to say it. I have tried and tested every possible technique and failed miserably. I hate cooking, but I love to eat delicious food.

Food is everywhere, colour, texture, and flavour, all available to run your taste buds wild. We live in a society where food has become the anchor towards a happy life. Eating out is our go-to on most weekends, and if we want to indulge, we order delivery. Food brings us joy, satisfaction and pleasure. A never-ending and irresistible array of culinary delights

Supermarkets, restaurants, ready-made meals and desserts. Food trucks, bays and pop-ups. You name it; it's out there. Food is the number one aphrodisiac and never fails to impress, especially when a partner makes you a meal from scratch.

Unfortunately, my experiences in the cooking world have been disastrous. I always have the best intentions when trying to impress a date. I think to myself how lovely it would be to invite someone over for dinner and serve them something you've made yourself. It’s a beautiful gesture and shows commitment. They do say people fall in love through their stomachs.

The first time I cooked a meal for someone, it was spaghetti bolognese. I invited my date round at 8 pm, thinking that I would have everything served and perfect by then. I remember following a recipe that looked very easy to do. No problem, I thought to myself, this will be a piece of cake. It turned out worse than I expected.

The moment I put the pasta into boiling water, I knew there was trouble. The strands of spaghetti stuck on the side of the pan like glue. The minute I had to drain them, they were soft, overdone and had the texture of mashed potatoes. I had to put my faith in the flavour and hope for the best. I was determined to make an incredible sauce: garlic, chopped onions, carrots, tomatoes. Cook, toss and then add spices like pepper and chilli. Add sugar to neutralise the acidity of the tomato sauce, and voila! Simple enough.

My date arrived on time, and we sat down for our candlelit dinner. I served the bolognese on beautiful plates next to a glass of wine. Romantic music played in the background, and I couldn't wait for my man to try my dish, no pun intended. As I took the first bite, I realised it was sweeter than 10 Krispy Kreme doughnuts eaten at once. I had put way too much sugar in the sauce, and it tasted like birthday candy. The pasta was sloppy, soft, and swimming in too many tomatoes. It was like a warm salad, loaded with sugar and cayenne pepper. It tasted like overrated dog food. To my surprise, my date ate all of it. I never got to know why, as he never called me again. Figures.

Following recipes looks easier said than done. I can't follow instructions to the letter because I always like putting my unique spin on things, which never ends up being a good idea. Cooking is an art form, and making food taste amazing is hard, especially for newbies like me. Still, I wouldn't say I like it. I would be happy not to cook ever again. My culinary tactics are awful, and that is an understatement.

I love food with all of my soul but hate preparing it. Can't cook, won't cook. I would much rather be invited to a restaurant and eat a chef’s food that tastes like heaven. If you're an awful cook like me, don't worry. Delivery runs Monday to Sunday. There is no need to ponder.



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Wallis May Streete

Wallis May Streete


Mother of three. Freelance writer. Poet. Lyricist. “We are lost souls trying to find the light, and when we do, we dance with shadows.”