Zach Pendleton.com

You Can’t Get There From Here

January 25th, 2010

I’ve not always been the kind of guy who nestles up with casebooks for ten hours a day and spends his remaining waking hours on a computer. In my past life I was a pretty adventurous guy. Case in point:

I have known and loved the freedom that can only come from riding a hog across the untamed West of this beautiful country. But then the secondhand smoke from the lady in the background caught up with me and I become an indoor pet.

In an attempt to reclaim some of my past glory, I’ve been spending some time developing hobbies that don’t involve law or the Internet. I’ve been reading a lot more thanks to my life-changing, always there, ready-to-be-read-when-I-need-it Kindle, and now I’ve decided to try something new: cooking.

It isn’t that I’ve never cooked. But when you have lived with a forty-plus year-old roommate (who I will call, to protect his anonymity, “G-Unit”. Partly because he had a “G” in his name and partly because on one fateful winter morning I saw his penis during an unfortunate disrobing in the kitchen) who abuses Bengay to the point that even your cereal smells like analgesic heat rub, cooking becomes less appealing. And it’s not just the mild PTSD that comes from seeing your roommate naked in the same kitchen that you prepare food in. It’s knowing that everything you cook with is going to give your tongue that all too familiar hot/cold sensation that will leave you wondering if you somehow sprained it during some unfamiliar tongue sport.

So with that background I have learned to love paying other people to prepare my food. I’m not too picky about restaurants, though I do have a strict policy about not being served by anyone with a sports injury. And while it’s been easy on my psyche, it’s wreaked havoc on my checkbook and my waistline. At 150 lbs, I am heavier than I have ever been—Fun fact! I have weighed between 140 and 145 lbs. since the 9th Grade—and as a subpar law student I really should be putting my money towards bribing government officials in the hopes of securing some low level job that will allow me to eek of a meager subsistence. It is with these thoughts in mind that I’ve taken up cooking.

I made avocado tacos tonight (pictures forthcoming soon). I chose a Mexican-inspired dish because 1) I love Mexican food, 2) this particular meal didn’t actually involve using an oven, and 3) I’m really hoping to get a nickname like “El Jefe” out of this cooking business. And while I understand I’m a little biased, they were really good. Sure I used too many onions and had to ask someone how to cut an avocado, but for my first foray into cooking I’m pretty pleased with myself.

I now have a fridge’s worth of ingredients for two other exotic meals this week. Because my mother is the only reader of this blog and because she is constantly concerned about how well I eat, I will be sure to make periodic updates about my progress. I enjoyed cooking last night, and I look forward to the day when I am able to proudly declare to my waiter as he brings my food, “This looks great! Not that I couldn’t have made it myself…”