So you think you can cook?

I’m going to level with you. This is not an ordinary food blog. I mean, yeah, there are recipes in here, and if you follow one of them, chances are you’ll end up with something edible. But you’re also going to be a little angry with me, and the more comfortable you are in the kitchen the angrier you’re going to be—especially the bakers out there. What we’re doing here is anarchy.

See, I don’t measure anything, and I have no fear. Well, that’s not exactly true. I have plenty of fears—including a couple that are less than helpful in the kitchen. What I mean to say is, I’ll try anything. I don’t look at a recipe and think “I can’t do that.” I might look at it and think “Where the hell do I buy that?” But I’m far too stupid to think “no, that sounds too hard.”

I’m more of a mad scientist. I tend to cobble things together from leftover bits of other recipes and substitute ingredients with things that I have in my kitchen. The finished product is a messy counter top and the culinary equivalent of Frankenstein’s monster.

So, to call this a recipe blog is probably a stretch. There are a few things I have locked down, but whenever someone asks for the recipe—let’s just say I get some weird looks. It’s like asking a toddler how to make a sandwich. How much peanut butter should I use? “Enough.” Great. Thanks.

I’ve also learned that on the rare occasion I do track a specific measurement, it’s nothing short of criminal to use decimals. If you write “0.5 cups” on a cheesecake recipe instead of “1/2 cup”, the bakers of the world are likely to stab you with a paring knife.

So, now comes the obvious question: “If you’re such a lunatic, why are you writing this thing?”

The short answer is: I have no idea. But if you made it this far, I have your attention, so let’s get weird.