Confession of a kitchen incompetent

I’m just going to go out on a limb here and guess you’ve either been to a party, hosted a party, or planned a party recently. This does seem to be a time of year to get folks together indoors and share germs. Or holiday cheer, whatever. At any rate, those parties inevitably come with what I like to call YikesMustFood. This is a state of panic characterized by the shoving of things that were formerly in the refrigerator into a pan or pot or appliance, adding ingredients that might have once been tasty in a dish, and hoping for the best. In my version of reality, this process almost never works out well.

To be fair, me entire life as a mother is all about YikesMustFood, so adding that extra level of holiday anxiety is just frosting, sprinkles, and nerves. Pot lucks, as you can imagine, are my very favorite things.

Kidding. I hate them. Avoid them when possible. 

When it’s not possible? I can’t share the disaster of YikesMustFood with a dozen or more potential critics! Cooking for others is like publishing a story: it’s a gift that is almost certainly gross and will make someone sick, and they are guaranteed to either leave it on the tray and save themselves (smart!) or grab a serving, choke it down, and complain about it afterward. So... I don’t. Cook, that is.

Instead I buy cheese and wine. I know a little bit about both and can select decent combos, and its less vulnerable and crazy-making than cooking. If you are a fellow sufferer of YikesMustFood, this party-and-potluck season, be kind to you and just make a pretty plate full off purchased goodies. No one will even know the difference.