For someone as averse to kitchen chores as yours truly it may come as quite a surprise to learn that among all the many many books I own are also a few cookbooks. Admittedly I don't own tons of them, but yes, there are some taking up valuable shelf space.
Yep, the girl who needs a compass to find the kitchen owns half a dozen cookbooks.
Now you might wonder why I even have those few books when I'm obviously not putting them to good use. Well, that's actually a good question. Oddly enough I've been prone to buy them over the years for two reasons. In most cases simply because I liked all the yummy pictures and the particular book was such a bargain that I just couldn't pass on. And in one or two cases I had a weak moment where I thought that maybe, just maybe, I should do something about my non existent cooking skills. Last but not least, let's not forget those books I received as gifts. And you better not comment on that now.
Before anyone gets the impression that I'm merely able to cook water, or at the most, have the ability to prepare convenience food, let me assure you that in fact I'm not that useless in the kitchen. I'm able to prepare quite a number of meals and no one ever got insured or even killed eating them. I swear. What's actually to blame for this misconception concerning my cooking skills is the fact that I refuse to spend more than thirty minutes on cooking something, and that time starts the moment I open the fridge and ends when I turn off the stove. So when I cook, I cook fast.
And believe it or not, I'm even receiving compliments on the meals I make. Granted, I'm not 100% sure if people are just glad they survived the culinary trip and are consequently surprised to live on. After all, with the threat of possible poisoning, everything that doesn't make you puke right away, probably tastes good. Alright, I should seriously stop making fun of my cooking abilities, before even my blog followers start believing I shouldn't touch a cooking spoon ...