I am not a cook. I know that. How do I know that? I know real cooks, and I am nothing like them. My daughter is a cook. My best friend is a cook.
They get excited over William-Sonoma and Sur la Table catalogs. They love to pore over cookbooks. Their favorite possessions are a wire whisk (in the case of my friend) and a grater (in the case of my daughter). I can't fault them for any of it, though, because of course I get the benefits of their labor (although it usually is accompanied by additional pounds, unfortunately).
Both of them have introduced me to things I would have NEVER experienced otherwise and given me tips that makes me look like I know what I'm doing even though I don't! And hey, they introduced me to my beloved onion goggles. (Don't ask me why I'm making that face!)
Tonight I decided to make roasted butternut squash soup. I have never even bought a butternut squash before, much less tried to cook something edible with one. But I dove in, and I have to say, I'm pretty proud of the outcome. The squash cooked up beautifully and looked like someone experienced had done it!
I'm going to make soup out of it. I'll let you know how it turns out.
