In looking back over my recipes, I have noticed that I am vague in terms of how much you put in. Well, I can't tell you.
I use my own good cooking judgment. Some people are musical. They can play instruments with talent and make people happy. I am a music fan. After years of various lessons, I can't competently play anything. Some people are artistically inclined. They can draw, paint, sculpt, sew. I can do none of these.
If nothing else creative, I can cook.
One of my favorite things to do is to read recipes. I invariably bastardize them.
I'm not into exact measurements unless I am baking. It's instinct.
I think this is a gift. Some people paint. Some people play an instrument. I cook.
I think I'm good at it.
There is nothing I love more than having a dinner party and everyone saying how wonderful the food was. That gives me extreme pleasure.
I often ask my father-in-law what he is hungry for. He loves to watch cooking shows and find new ideas. He doesn't actually cook. He just brings them to me to make. This is fine for the most part, but I still haven't broken down and made lamp chops for him. I don't care for lamb, why would I cook it?
Who's coming over for dinner?
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