Picky grouchy non-cook FAQs and not so FAQs
IS IT POSSIBLE TO BE
A TEMPORARY NON-COOK?
IS IT POSSIBLE TO BE
A TEMPORARY NON-COOK?
Interview with
Temporary Non-Cook
Betty Rice
Temporary Non-Cook
Betty Rice
Betty Rice has made a career of yammering. She worked her way through college as a bartender in New York City, and then moved on to the world of televison news, where she spent several years as a newswriter, reporter, and producer of local and national programs. Following that, she served her country as a public affairs representative for the Department of State (her period of not-cooking ocurred in this era), and today she toils--realtively quietly--in an ivory tower (really) on a university campus. She occasionally dabbles in travel writing, and truly enjoys seeing the world and enjoying food that others have cooked for her.
Betty answered interview questions about her period as a Temporary Non-Cook (by disaster) over email.
Betty answered interview questions about her period as a Temporary Non-Cook (by disaster) over email.
Picky Grouchy Non-Cook: Although you like to cook, you spent a period of time not cooking. Could you describe yourself during that period? Could you put yourself in a category?
Betty Rice: Well, first I'd like to say that I'm extremely honored to be given a voice amongst the non-cooks; I can't imagine some of the higher profile cookers (I could call them chefs, but that would just make them feel important) in the world giving up space to the non-cooks. It's nice to see that your guests don't slam cooks or think that there's a screw loose (or if you do, you don't say it out loud). You really are a very nice bunch. I don't really think of myself as picky--I tend to like most things, as long as they aren't fishy fish or organ meats, or the odd vegetable. And probably ostrich eggs...although I have never had one, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't like it. And I really don't think I'm grouchy either, but I do suppose that not cooking for a period probably made me feel that way...plus I was a little freaked out, pretty much all the time. Plus, everything smelled like smoke. So during that time, I was most definitely a non-cook. There, I said it: for about four months of my life, a decade and a half ago, I WAS A PICKY GROUCHY NON-COOK. PGN-C: What happened to make you stop cooking? Betty Rice: Well, as a mom of a five year old, I was multitasking as usual (those of you who have had five year olds know EXACTLY what I'm talking about). We were heading to the pool after dinner, and the plan was to have barbecued ribs the following night. So to make them super tender, I decided to put them into a pot of water, bring it to a boil, then turn it off and let the ribs sit in the hot water while we were gone. I remember that the dishwasher was on; I remember turning on the pot. And I remember, three hours later as I was leaving the pool, that I had completely forgotten the turn-it-off part. I was pleasantly surprised to see that the house was still standing when we pulled up in front. I suppose I thought for a second that the stove had miraculoiusly turned it’s self off (hey, there's an idea...). Then I heard the smoke detector and ran in (don't worry, my son stayed outside). There was a thick cloud of grey smoke half way up the walls of the first floor. I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the pot (which was by then spewing out acrid smoke) and threw it out into the back yard. Once I managed to stop the smoke detector from buzzing, open all the windows and doors, and find our grumpy old Siamese cat (talk about picky grouchy!) and get him into the car, I think the adrenalin eased off a bit. At that point, we went into the house to survey the damage. Then the fire department came; obviously my ventilation into the night air caused some concern from our neighbors and someone called. I'm glad they did because they checked the temperature of the wall behind the stove, they did a carbon monoxide test, and they brought these humongous fans that blew even more of my smoky stink out into the night. The offical cause of the damage? "Extreme extensive smoke damage as the result of a protein-based fire." I will never forget that phrase. |
PGN-C: How long did the not cooking last? Did you know at the time that it would be temporary?
Betty Rice: I never stopped to think that I would have a problem cooking, but psychologically, I guess a fire is pretty big event on the freak-out scale. At first, I couldn't cook because of the damage. That was probably a week or so. And then I just didn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. I recall a lot of fast food, restaurants, and microwaving during that time, which lasted about four months. To this day, all these years later, I still do not use the stove on weekday mornings, or any other time when there are a million things going on and I can't concentrate. After dinner, I sometimes sit on the couch, and I'll glance at the stove--just to be certain it's off. I have left the house and turned around and headed back home to check that I've turned the stove off--probably twenty times since the fire. I've called my father in law to go and check for me. And it's transferred to other things--did I close the garage door? Is the dog in the house? Did I remember to lock all the doors? So, I guess in a sense, it's never really ended for me. PGN-C: This trauma really changed your cooking behavior. Did not cooking in turn change other aspects of your life? Betty Rice: I really hadn't thought about this too much until you posed this question. For me, the action of cooking and--I know this is going to sound a bit off to the non-cooks--grocery shopping, is a great psychological and physical release. I see shopping for sustenance as the only truly legitimate reason to spend whatever is necessary to get the best for the family. I mean, a resort hotel is nice, but the bottom line in feeling good about taking an exotic trip is knowing you got the best deal possible. And it seems as though shoes invariably involve some level of justification -- in my case, usually the promise to throw one old pair out for every new one that comes in... But no one ever questions the grocery bill. I'm not a fan of the schlepping home or putting away once the money has been spent, but the sheer action of that hour to myself to wander the aisles without a list is really quite enjoyable. (Oh, and I don't do the clean up well or happily--- if you start a site for picky-grouchy non-dish-doers, I'm in for sure) When it comes to the cooking part, this is what I really love: You know how some people can consider a piece of fabric and then just start cutting and create a skirt or a top? Or how others just know what the end result will be when they mix two colors of paint? That's cooking to me. It's one part science lab, one part creativity, and two parts guinea pig (that'd be my husband and my son who encourage me to try new things). And there's just something about slamming ingredients together and making a mess that's just... it's like finger painting to me--remember how much fun that was? It just makes me happy, I guess...holy cow, is that The Joy of Cooking? Anyway, I suppose other than the extreme paranoia over almost burning our house down, I lost a level of joy and innocence--for shopping and for cooking. I suspect that affected me more deeply than I had considered. We all probably lost a layer of health as well as we subsisted on a lot of fast food while the repairs and remediation went on for what seemed like forever. PGN-C: Do you think there are other kinds of disasters or traumas that might have an effect on a person's cooking behavior? Betty Rice: I'm not sure, but fire is a pretty good catalyst for altering cooking patterns. That said, I certainly wouldn't recommend setting a fire to get out of cooking. |