I admit it. I really suck at cooking. This is a known fact by my family and close friends - and now I am admitting it to you. Some people are just not made for the kitchen, I happen to be one of those people.
A few weeks ago I tried to make a piece of toast. We (at the time) did not own a toaster so I decided to put a piece of bread on the George Foreman. Then I left to get ready for the day. And then I left for work.
Hours passed before I received a group message from my roommates with a picture of a black piece of charcoal sitting on our kitchen counter. Immediately my heart dropped and I 'fessed up that I was the roommate responsible for ALMOST burning down our apartment. Now, normally you would read this and think "oh gosh, silly Annie, what a forgetful girl." The thing is, that was only the first time I did this.
Tonight I tried to make a grilled cheese sandwich. Bad life choice. I was hungry and grocery-less so I said hey, grilled cheese sounds fine. So, once again, I placed 2 pieces of bread and cheese on the George Foreman and ran to the other room to grab a drink. You can guess what happened next...
About 30 minutes later I'm in the middle of a lovely phone conversation when Katie walks in with a mischievous expression on her face. "Annie, have you been cooking again?"
I may have screamed. Sure enough, there was my smoking, shriveled up, crouton of a sandwich left on the grill.
Word to the wise- If I ever live alone please install extra smoke detectors in my kitchen.
Currently attempting to bake funfetti cookies. But don't worry, my roommates are supervising. Bless them.
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