Cooking for Dummies

My room is a mess. By my room, I mean the 11x11 cubicle that I share with my boyfriend who, though it would seem otherwise, has a chronic need to put (and leave) everything on the floor. Okay, so maybe I don't exactly open a drawer, fold a shirt, or empty the trash as much as I should either. However, the food memoirs, culinary school course catalogs, my mini dorm kitchen (consisting at this moment of crunchy peanut butter, Ghirardelli chocolate chips, soy sauce, sesame oil, vanilla extract, scallions, coconut flakes, baking power, sugar, and flour)--are all neatly organized this morning in my new Bed, Bath, and Beyond bought organizing drawer set. I sit in front of the shrine of Ruth Reichl, Jeffrey Steingarten, a random book called "Will Write for Food", and Cooking for Dummies. Speaking of that...maybe I should put it out there that, as much as I love writing about food, I am not much of a cook. I double take (okay triple take) whether it says teaspoon or tablespoon before proceeding to mess it up anyway. I burn the "lightly toasted coconut flakes", break the parmesan hash brown while trying to flip it pizza style, make pancakes from the box for dinner and desert. Not for lack of trying, however. I made a red velvet cake for my family as thanks, but it turned out pink; I made cold peanut noodles that took 2 hours and tasted like the Chinese food chain's noodles down the street (which are good, but not worth $50 in groceries). But, I persevere. I have essays not to write, job applications not to do, courses not to register for, and plenty of fingers left to cut while chopping and burn while boiling.