For the love of food: grow up and cook

I'm happy to sit with you and watch cooking shows all day—but don't ask me to make you dinner.

I hate cooking. I avoid it at all costs.

On the other hand, I appreciate people who can cook. I'm happy to eat all day, but I won't ever be caught slaving over a frying pan.

Too much emotional baggage comes with preparing meals that others will consume and comment on.

I prefer to avoid soul-searching questions, such as: Will they like it? Will they hate it? Will it give them food poisoning? How chefs deal with such stressors is beyond me.  

Not only am I insecure about my cooking abilities, but I am also lazy in the kitchen.

If I'm home by myself, I won't cook.

Even microwaving is a stretch. I'll happily wait for my mom to come home so she can cook for me.

I was once a proud subscriber to the Rachael Ray magazine. I would sit and read it as soon as it arrived in the mail. I would mark recipes I wanted to try—and then hand them off to my mom to cook.

On those rare occasions when I do cook for a family gathering or a church potluck, I don't tell anyone that I made the dish unless I first hear positive feedback.

Basking in the glory of compliments from those eating my food is a perk when I do decide to pick up a wisk.

This Thanksgiving I made the creamed corn for our family dinner. Everyone said it tasted great, but when I told them I made it, no one believed me. Finally, I made my mom tell our relatives that I did indeed make it.

They were amazed. The fam then requested that I make creamed corn for our next get-together—I didn't guarantee anything.

The more I'm around the preparation of food, the less hungry I become. I don't like to see the steps of prepping food, I prefer to indulge in the finished product.

In January I will be transferring to Arizona State University to study journalism. My mom will remain in California, so the million dollar question is what I'm going to do about food.

As much as I hate cooking, I don't want to starve come January 2012. Living far away from my mom's kitchen will bring substantial changes to my life. I have a feeling that starting to cook my own meals will be a big part of that transformation.

First up: macaroni and cheese.