Dinner and a Rosette

The world of culinary art has been unkind to me. There is nobody to cook for and those I have cooked for have liked it, and the food has been good, but it just wasn't enough for me. Something is missing and I can't seem to figure out what it is... ummm... maybe it is the fact that I am cooking in other people's kitchens and I don't have one of my own and the fact that my life is being held hostage and I don't have anything that belongs to me. I have been so lonely lately because nobody will let me cook. I wanted to roast a duck for Thanksgiving and make a real fest, but nobody wanted it. I wanted to do the same for Christmas, and my parents want to go out. I have cooked for a few friends and that has been fun, but once again, in their kitchens. There is something unkind about that to me. It seems violating and weird and I am not sure why. I had one disaster. I made lavender rosette teacakes and they tasted like bath oil. They were very cute and pretty, but lord they tasted like I licked someone's foot after an aromatic bath.

I did make a pretty good meal for my friend. He invited me over to cook dinner for him and I made my stuffed chicken with spinach and provolone cheese and added a wonderful mushroom cream sauce to the top, a recipe that was my inner Julia Child. He bought a soft red and I was not happy about it. He said not everything is about me. I found it selfish considering I was a guest for one and two, he isn't a wine drinker. Maybe things are not about me, but the wine should be my choice. I guess he felt that since he paid for it he could buy what he wanted and it wasn't about making me, his guest happy. He did it to prove a point in my opinion. This is the difference between my culture at home and everyone else's. My mom raised me better than that. Say what you want about her, but I have great manners and when I invite someone to my house and have them cook for me, I let them pick the wine and I certainly wouldn't go out and buy a sweet wine knowing they love full bodied. I have broken up with men for much less and I have learned my lesson with that one: Always bring my own wine. I don't deal well with men who do things just be controlling and prove a point and I felt that was his point. It was just rude in my opinion. I drank it and it was fizzy, sweet and did not go with what I cooked, but it did make a great deglaze, considering it was basically cooking wine. At any rate, I am completely miserable without a kitchen. I am at my mother's house, but she never eats. My step dad doesn't care about food and feels it is a waste of money to spend on anything but canned soup. I am so excited for the day when I get all my cooking stuff back and I have my own kitchen and I can listen to my cheesy 60 style French pop music in my cute apron and sing and cook and have people over who enjoy my cooking. I am sure I will find someone someday.