My culinary skills are stunted.
After college, I spent one year at a day school where I had to deal with my own food. I was in St. Croix, and I remember eating out often. I know I made dinners, but I have no memory of them.
Then, I came to boarding school where all meals are prepared in the dining hall. The early summers when I was here, we'd do a potluck kind of thing most nights -- I was usually the ice cream guy.
I did learn to grill, at least well enough to kill all bacteria on different kinds of meat, and some fish.
Then, I married a person who both likes to cook and does so really well. Summer cooking, she claims, is a fun thing to do, although I know that's not true every night. Still, any skills that I might have had have atrophied, and the kids are well aware when Dad is cooking, and their expectations are appropriately lowered. I suspect even the Dog is disappointed.
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