Jasmine Anderson tells studentcooking.tv why somethings may just be best left to mum…
My conscience plagued me precisely eleven days before I moved to university and compelled me to attempt to cook anything. I scowled at the basic recipes despite having once managed to burn pasta, and ended up poking my finger at a vague apple crumble recipe out of a multitude of cookbooks that seemed to be speaking a different language. Needless to say, the cooking attempt was the ultimate disaster. My Mum, fighting between laughter and tears, took one mouthful of the apple slush and water and refused to eat anymore. After such a foul attempt it seemed I had given up on cooking before I had even began my academic path which I should have taken as a signal that the worst was yet to come.
There are many examples I could choose from to demonstrate my culinary incapabilities but I shall decide on the top three disasters that will hopefully evoke enough humour to distract me from my burning shame:
1. My general over portioning- we have the named ‘Andersson portion’ for a reason in my household- we are massive eaters. However, instead of taking into account my Mum feeds a family of four I decided to follow her measurements and polished a 3kg bag of pasta off in about six weeks. I estimate that about 25% was wasted.
2. My omelette cooking disaster- my scrambled eggs are famous at home for stinking the entire house out, so I decided in order to keep my flatmates as friends I should progress to the most basic omelette recipe known to man. It failed miserably of course. Note to self: running undercooked egg yolks are not your friends.
3. My ‘eggy bread’ disaster- In attempt to suppress the reign of the un-cookable egg, I reminisced about my Grandad’s infamous ‘eggy bread’ and used our sharing of genes as motivation. Not realising that I had to actually dip the bread into the egg, I ended up with an omelette and slightly warm bread. One of my flatmates finally stopped laughing thirty minutes later.
From these events I surmised that I am most certainly not a kinaesthetic learner and the vague recipes I was reading were of no use to my clumsy hands. When I actually used Student Cooking for a risotto recipe I was proud enough to serve my over portioned food to my friends, post a picture of twitter and send a picture message to my Mum, who has the most enviable natural hand in the kitchen. My recipe repertoire has slowly but surely increased thanks to my Student Cooking dependence (even if it does mean running back and forth from my bedroom to the kitchen thanks to my student accommodation’s lousy Ethernet cable). Even I admit that my cooking has come on leaps and bounds—I now eat edible food—but I still think that the woman with the thirty-odd years of cooking experience is welcome to cook me Christmas dinner—even if she did burn it ever so slightly last year.