I’m going to cook more often, which means I need to learn how.
I can handle some of the basics, like starting fire with a magnifying glass, and I’m good at following instructions, so I ought to develop quickly. You won’t be demanding to eat at our house, but if you visit and I’m cooking, you’ll probably be able to recognize the meal. “This is meat,” for example, “with a side of green plants.”
One obstacle to becoming a better cook is that I’m not a gourmand. I simply don’t care. Maybe this will change.
An important factor in this cooking endeavor is my wife’s celiac disease. For her, GF is not a fashionable lifestyle choice. Her villi curl up and die if she eats gluten. If I’m going to cook things, I need to focus on meals that don’t attack my wife’s villi.
Gluten-free pizza crust often had a weird texture and a weirder aftertaste. Imagine the fabled paste-eating kindergartener growing up to become a pizza chef who insists on using one special ingredient in all of his dough.
I looked up well-reviewed recipes online and found a promising option, which I made for the family tonight. It was good! We all liked the crust, including our dog Bones. That’s him in the photo above. The smell of pepperoni gave him a crazed blurry expression.