Join me on my adventures and misadventures during my last year of law school, my ultimate (and unreachable) goal of attaining my own reality show--my slightly more realistic goal of publishing a book, and of course my (anything but dull) daily life!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Mr. Wrong...Issue #11
There's something about a guy who can cook (or grill) really well. I get slightly flustered seeing Bobby Flay on the cooking channel--I usually hope that he'll get picked on "Iron Chef", or that super sexy Curtis Stone when he appears on the "Biggest Loser". I've had my fair share of gentlemen cook for me. Some have been gourmetmeals--that I've had the pleasure of watching them do so--hopefully gained some cooking skills by observing. Others have purchased takeout, but gone to the trouble of having pots and pans out--only for me to discover the takeout boxes in the trash (I honestly think it's cute--because it's pry what I would do). And some have just been terrible, awful, no-good, very bad...and that's me being nice.
One thing I appreciated about this Mr. Wrong was some awesome restaurants we would go to...he would always order interesting, albeit delicious, menu items that I would never think to order myself--and they always turned out to be way more awesome than what I would order. I was pretty excited when this Mr. Wrong asked if he could cook for me--because I assumed his cooking standards would be similar to his restauranting skills.
Unfortunately I haven't quite grasped that these grandiose assumptions I make about all these Mr. Wrong's are normally Wrong...and this one was no different.
This Mr. Wrong made Indian Food for us. I love Chicken Tikka Korma or Chicken Tikka Masala if I'm going to eat Indian...but that night I was adventerous and tried so enjoy what he had worked so hard at preparing. The food was alright--my favorite part the naan (the yummy bread)...and then we watched a scary movie--not my choice. I hate scary movies because I get so scared--but I digress. I drove home, and had to stop a few times to vomit--yes you read that right vomit. By the time I got home I laid in fetal position` on my floor because I was in so much pain...why? Food Poisoning.
After a few days, a doctor visit, lots of bland food, and finally subsiding nausea--I texted Mr. Wrong--letting him know what happened and asking if he got sick too...(he should have lied and said yes). Instead he let me know that it could have been bad meat--he had left it sitting out (raw) when he went for a run and then running errands, or something along those lines. Lovely.
This Mr. Wrong and I went out a few more times--but he would make super snotty comments about oh I better order something bland...or hope you don't get sick from this. That, in my mind, is just rude. Plus it would have been brought up in a fight 15 years down the road "Honey, you didn't pick up the milk from the store...could you go back and get that?" "NO! I will not run food related errands for you because you'll get sick from any food that comes in contact with me..." See, just a messy Pandora's box that I'm keeping closed :)
Have you ever gotten sick from someone's cooking?! Or has someone gotten sick from your cooking?!