Yesterday, Finn informed me that he had gotten a lot of cooking supplies in the mail, and suggested that we attempt to cook something for dinner.
Sapphire, stating that she didn’t have five hours to devote to grocery shopping and cooking mediocre food, voted to forgo the excursion that Finn and Fritz were planning to take to Walmart. I, however, was not so dissuaded, and left our suite around seven to meet up with said boys for said adventure.
The time we spent traipsing around the store wasn’t wasted necessarily, but I won’t say it was efficiently used. Somewhere along the way I happened to mention to Fritz that I had a recipe for Byelorussian Kolduny, and, upon reading the description of said dish, Fritz demanded that I make it.
Several bags of produce and a carton of fruit punch later, I was peeling potatoes with a butcher knife begged from my suitemate, dicing them on a counter shared with a pathetic excuse for a microwave, and attempting, with every tool and in every manner imaginable, to somehow mince them without a meat grinder.
You think I’m kidding. It came down to Fritz putting them in a plastic bag and beating them with canned chicken. I think Finn’s room may still have potato bits in it.
Eventually we had the brilliant idea of simply mashing the potatoes, and this predicament was quickly tossed aside. However, yet another one arose: the Finn/Fritz/other dudes residence has no seasonings within it.
That made for interestingly flavored meat.
Sapphire, who had visited for a few hours, watched all of this from the couch, only getting up to occasionally try her hand at several different cooking skills (Sapphire, apparently, needs cooking lessons) or to intervene when I looked ready to injure myself in frustration. After spending half an hour or so demanding that I tell her what I’d gotten for her for her birthday (I accidentally mentioned that I may have picked something up, and no, Sapphire, it’s not going on here >:D), she left with a sigh and an, “I told you it wasn’t worth it!”
After a loud fight with the final product of my labors (a soup of potato and meat simmering in a pan) that nearly ended in bloodshed and tears, Fritz shoved me aside and cooked the meal that I had been so determined to make.
Thankfully, one of their suitemates actually seemed to sort of enjoy the concoction. Perhaps the best consolation, however, was that Finn had made brownies at the beginning of the disaster, which were cooled and ready for eating by the time the drama with the actual main course had reached its peak.
After eating two brownies and an amorphous blob of unseasoned potato mash and hamburger, I took my leave, hoping not to create a bigger mess than I already had.
Upon returning to my dorm (at eleven), Sapphire simply looked up from her textbook with a smirk and said, “I told you cooking was too much effort.”
Perhaps she was right. It was quite disastrous.
Whatever… I do what I want.