Losing my mojo like the ANC
Once a reliable cook, now my meals are hit or miss. My plan to regain my cooking mojo starts here.
Picture for illustration: iStock
Suddenly I’m a terrible cook. Overnight, just like that.
I used to be a decent cook. My portly children are proof of that claim.
Well, of course I manage a meal that bowls the children out from time to time, but every evening when we take our places at the table, we all know it’s a gamble.
Sunday evening meals are still great. I start in the afternoon and prepare slow-cooked comfort food.
A great goulash, shanks, trinchado… But the quick meals on weekdays are hit ’n miss.
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“He can’t even make a peanut butter sandwich,” little Egg told Snapdragon, her mom.
“He’s supposed to stir the peanut butter in the bottle until it’s smooth.
“Then he must spread it on a slice of bread meticulously, right up to the crust.
“And when he cuts the sandwich, it must be in two perfect rectangles or triangles.
“But no! He just smears the peanut butter on the bread and then he cuts it into whatever you call those ugly shapes. Unacceptable!”
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“I think I’ve lost my mojo,” I told the lovely Snapdragon this week. “Like Austin Powers.”
“And how did that awful man get his mojo back?” she asked, hardly concealing her disgust for one of my favourite movie characters.
“He teamed up with the gorgeous Heather Graham,” I said.
“It will be far too expensive to bring Heather here, but we have thousands of beautiful English women in this city…”
“No,” said Snapdragon.
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“Besides the fact that none of them will want to team up with an old man who can’t even cook, you will concentrate even less than usual.
“I think that’s your problem: concentration.”
With my cooking slump, I feel compassion for the ANC. They’re in the same position.
I can’t do much to help uncle Cyril Ramaphosa. But I know what I’m going to do.
I’ll start from scratch with very basic meals. This evening it will be spaghetti bolognese.
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Tomorrow evening, it will be fancy sandwiches. I’ll read through recipes, select my ingredients carefully and give all my attention to every step.
Next week, I can graduate to mac and cheese and bobbie.
Until I have my mojo back. Even if it is without a local version of Heather Graham.
Watch this space!
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