We’ve spent alot of time talking about stereotypes and the fact that many of them exist for good reason.Â One of the stereotypes I do not, nor have ever fit is that of the grand, gourmet cook. To quote a gay icon, Phyllis Diller: You know what I really need? An oven that flushes.
In fact, one of my favorite wisecracks is that were it not for friends and restaurants, or better yet–friends WITH restaurants, I would have starved to death years ago.
This is all completely beyond Ricky’s comprehension. Ricky is a gourmet cook who would undoubtedly win the prize on one of those Food Network shows where the contestant is required to make a luscious dessert from a gourd, 6 bananas, an egg and some kiwi fuzz.
I have literally burned soup.
I do it by leaving it on simmer, the stuff in the soup then settling to the bottom of the gleaming stainlessÂ All-Clad soup pot, while I wander off to over-fertilize my over-green lawn or something.
Ricky says “But it’s SO easy! All you have to do is follow directions. Can’t you follow directions?”
To which I reply: “I don’t think we’ve met. My name is Brad, and you are . . . ?” My ADD is so bad I can become lost on an escalator, and that coupled with my naturally defiant attitude makes following 34 easy steps for cous-cous to DIE for an impossibility.
Thank God for friends and restaurants, friends WITH restaurants, and especially Ricky, who keeps me well fed and well taken care of.
Today’s Gay Agenda: Make plans to take Ricky out for dinner. Offer to pick up the tab.