I want a cook.
I love cookbooks, love recipes and flavors and tinkering with old favorites to make new ones - but damn, I'm tired of actually cooking. It's hard to be creatively stimulated when the ones around you don't care - Bear's favorite dish is a heaping plate of 'I don't care, Jess, whatever you want to make' (as long as it's not spicy) and the kids would be happy with peanut butter sandwiches, baby carrots, and ketchup.
I need to branch out. New cuisines. New ideas. I'm sick of the same old grocery list, sick of planning the same meals.
I'm sick to death of chicken. Barbecued, baked, fricasseed. On the bone or off - it doesn't change the flavor much at all, does it?
It all...tastes like....chicken.
Someday I'm going to cook alligator and not tell them. "Go ahead," I'll smile, offering seconds. "I made this just for you."