If It Takes Longer Than Five Minutes to Cook, I’d Rather Starve
It’s time to solve the daily mystery of what to make for dinner tonight. Should I cook the groceries I just spent $100 on, or should I order Pad Thai for the third time in a week?
Of course, I can always throw together my specialty called “Whatever’s Left in the Refrigerator Casserole” or my favorite go-to meal consisting of a bowl of disappointment and a side of “I don’t feel like cooking.” And don’t be judgy. We didn’t really have pad thai three times in a week. One night, I shoved a frozen pizza into the oven.
Lately, I’ve gotten so lazy and uninterested in cooking that meal planning consists of asking Alexa for “easy dinner ideas” and rejecting them all before giving up and making a grilled cheese. (One of these days, Alexa is going to answer with, “Girl, stop already and just order a pizza.”
It seems I’ve reached the Gaaaaaawwwwdddd-I’m SO-Over-Cooking-Dinner phase of middle age.
Do you want to know how over it I am? A few weeks ago, after a trip to Costco where I netted a 50-pound bag of tortilla chips, a gallon-size container of taco seasoning, and a 3853-pack of salsa, I had a spark of creativity and made a Mexican meal three different ways on three consecutive days. By the third dinner, I’m pretty sure even the tortilla chips were judging me, which wasn’t fair because we all know how redundant Mexican food is.
As far as I’m concerned, nothing is as wonderful as eating out, which I consider one of mankind’s greatest achievements. I’m very drawn to the idea of being wined and dined. It transforms my respect for food. It allows me to be waited on (for a change.) It elevates my mood and when we are finished eating, I’m not tasked with cleaning the kitchen!
Eating dinner out a few times a week would be an actual dream come true, one where I’d get down on my knees and offer a tearful prayer of thanks to the Restaurant Gods. But we are not affluent (and even less affluent since I broke those damn eggs, but not so poor that I must resort to using my Grandmother’s depression-era cookbook) and cannot eat out as often as I wish, so I’m going to put a moratorium on cooking today and declare cereal the official dinner of Monday.