Cooking 101

Let's just get it out there, before we go any further: I can't cook.

Well, I can, I suppose. Pretty much anyone can follow a recipe. I just don't... and with good reason. My attempts at cooking have never turned out as planned. As soon as I think everything's going okay, disaster strikes. A long time ago I learned how to make alfredo sauce from scratch that was better than anything the Olive Garden could ever think of making. I caught a dishtowel on fire in the process. Then, another time, I made these awesome stuffed chicken breasts, and the twice-baked potatoes that were supposed to go with them were so hard they were almost inedible (how long are you supposed to bake a potato anyway?!). Once, while making brownies (from the box!), instead of putting a half cup of vegetable oil I put in two whole cups. And I'm sure there are plenty more kitchen nightmares than I can recall right now.

But I'm determined to learn. Moms cook, that's what we do. Now that Mason's going to be starting solid food in a couple of weeks, and since we're not doing jarred food, the pressure's on. I know he's not going to require meatloaf and mashed potatoes, but I have to least learn how to properly use an oven and a food processor. So yesterday, I gave it my first shot.

Remember Mason's little pie pumpkin? That pumpkin and I had a plan. I was going to bake it with some cinnamon, mash it up, put it in ice cube trays to freeze, then put the pumpkin cubes in plastic baggies, where they'd stay for three weeks until I was ready to thaw them out and serve. Easy right? What could go wrong?

So yesterday, while Mason took his morning nap, I got to work. I wanted to take pictures of the whole process since it was the first time I was ever cooking for my baby. To bake a pumpkin, all you have to do is cut the top off like you would if you were going to carve it, then cut it right in half and scrape out the seeds. Here's Mason's pumpkin, all ready for its date with the knife:

And that's as far as I got. I tried every knife in the kitchen and still couldn't cut the darn thing. I guess it never really ripened. Or maybe I just picked out some freaky, fossilized pumpkin. But I cut, I stabbed, and I sawed, and this is all that happened:


Seriously, these kinds of things only happen to me.