No Can Do

As I get older, I find that the list of things I can't do is increasing at an alarming rate. I was never a great artist but I'm a lot worse now than I used to be. I used to be able to do enough sleight-o'-hand card tricks to entertain at a party but I haven't dared do that in a while. I used to be able to cook…not well but well enough that I'd eat my own cooking. Now, not so much.

The drawing and the magic got worse because…well, because I stopped doing much of either. I blame that a bit on mild arthritis in my hands and a little on this hard fact: I increasingly found myself surrounded by guys who were so good at each that it was like, "Why bother?" Seeing someone else do something way, way better than I'll ever be able to do it might inspire others but it's always been discouraging to me.

Another factor: Learning and playing on computers increasingly has consumed the time I might have spent working on my drawing or magic. And I think I simply came to love writing a lot more than drawing or practicing fake shuffles. As of last month, I've been a professional writer for fifty (that's five-oh) years and I enjoy it more and more. Each morning, I have to write something — anything, even something like this — before I can do just about anything else.

And I've given up all but the most basic, simple, mix-two-things-together-and-stick-them-in-the-microwave cooking. I was never that good a chef but I've gotten to be really bad at it; so bad that now, that the only two things I make on a regular basis are reservations on Open Table and orders on Grubhub.

Whenever I get the slightest urge to cook anything, I can easily suppress it. All I have to do is watch a few of the 73 gazillion cooking videos on YouTube. Not every last one makes me think I don't know enough to poach an egg but most do. Often, the sheer amount of time 'n' energy someone takes to make a meat loaf gets me to thinking that the place here in L.A. that makes my favorite meat loaf can deliver in a tenth of the time and I know I'll like what I get. But I have learned a few things from all those cooking videos…

One is that you can spend a lot of time and effort making meatballs and they won't come out that much better than the little frozen ones they sell at the supermarket. I'm amazed how many professional chefs who think they can make cranberry sauce better than Ocean Spray and ketchup better than Heinz concede on little frozen meatballs.  They'll tell you how to improve them but they'll also tell you to buy them.  Most chefs, that is.

And most who do Italian cooking will surrender one point on "homemade is always better."  They'll admit they can't do anything with fresh tomatoes that isn't bested by the canned San Marzano kind.

I've also learned that to be a great cook, you have to love chopping things and standing over the stove for twenty minutes, stirring and stirring and stirring.  I could never learn to love that.

Lastly for now, I often feel that the person teaching me to cook is not cooking for me.  That becomes clear when they add chili powder or chile powder (either one) to most things and cayenne pepper to friggin' everything.  Some of these guys add a pinch of cayenne to strawberry ice cream, for fuck's sake or to buttermilk pancakes.

Yes, I know there's probably a fair amount of undetectable cayenne in many of the restaurant-prepared meals I eat but I dislike spicy/hot foods so much, I can't bring myself to add it in.  Instead, I become convinced that this chef has such a different (from me) concept of what makes for good eats that I shouldn't listen to him about anything.  Not logical, I know, but on some topics, I'm not as logical as I'd like to be.

I'm probably not logical about most things that relate to cooking.  Which to me is the biggest reason I shouldn't try it any longer.