If Gimp Can Cook, So Can You!

Posted: August 10, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , ,

Seriously, bonus points to anyone who knows the awesome cooking show I just referenced.  Either way, I got the bright idea to try and actually partake in one of my former avocations.  No, I’m not talking about…  You know what, I’m taking the high road this time.  No right-handed lefty spanky jokes.  Not this time.

Back to the task at hand (Ha.  The puns march on!).  If you’ve been following this little saga of mine, you’ll know that I have many food-related issues stemming from this cast-induced gimpification.  All was not lost!  After all, Rosie quickly learned how to use chopsticks.  I re-learned how to butter toast.   However some things, some manliness-affirming things, like trying to cut a steak?  Totally have to get someone else to do it.  It’s kinda sweet in a ball-shriveling kind of way when my girlfriend does it, but it’s utterly emasculating when my mother does it.  Seriously, it’s like I’ve become the type of male that, as I’ve said in the past, “is the exact reason why there shall always be women for guys like me.”

So, knowing beforehand that timing was going to fail in a way that nobody was going to have time to make dinner last night (except me), I decided not to do the American thing and order out for everyone.  I didn’t even do the lazy thing and let them figure it out, and just get included with it.  Oh no.  I decided to go balls to the freaking wall and see exactly how good Rosie is with a freaking knife.

That’s right.  The madman returned to the kitchen, with one viable hand, to go whip up the one thing that should potentially be the easiest meal to make– my famed sweet chili.   After all, how freaking hard can it be to stir a pot?  Right?

Freaking prep work...

Yeah. Gotta clean and cut these with just Rosie on duty. Anyone got 911 on speed dial?

Knowing that one-handed prep work was going to be as challenging as farting in a packed church unnoticed, I set to work immediately.  Rosie cleaned the peppers without much issue, and I got the rest of the kitchen set up in a handicapable accessible kind of way.

Next step: actually farting undetected in church (or doing the prep work, sans metaphor).

Now we get serious...

You may say that I'm cheating because of the food processor. You try to clean and peel an onion and garlic with one friggin' hand, then try to talk shit.

No, the Sam Adams Red pictured above wasn’t just to up the difficulty level of what I was about to do, half of it legitimately made it into the chili.  It took me the better part of five minutes just to get the freaking onion peeled, quartered, and tossed into the food processor– something that should have taken less than one.

At this point, I realize that this may have been a bit ambitious for a one-handed chef– sharp knife, beer, and cooking toys aside.  For the next twenty minutes or so, maybe less since it felt like an eternity, I got the garlic cleaned.  No sooner did the food processor mince the living shit out of the onion/garlic combo, I heard keys in the front door.  Cue the sigh of relief.

If my mom hadn’t been so gracious as to play sous-chef for a gimp, I’d probably still be cutting peppers instead of writing this up.   Oh, and the result?

I've still got the magic.

Single-handed awesomeness (plus sous chef). Hungry yet?

Stirring the kettle was an unexpectedly difficult task, but I had no choice but to man up.  I don’t think my ego could have taken any more abuse.  One batch of sweet and spicy turkey chili is sometimes all anyone needs to perk their mood up.  I seriously missed my kitchen zen, but this wee experiment taught me something.  I’d better stick to easier tasks.

The problem is, how much easier can you get than chili?!

Unplug.

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Comments
  1. SB says:

    NOM nom nom nom nomm…..

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