I cooked breakfast this weekend, and a bunch of other meals, in a kitchen unknown. The first few meals were a hot mess of checking every cupboard, drawer, and nook and cranny for tools, pots, towels, and spatulas.
But.
As I spent more time in the kitchen, naturally, each movement became more and more familiar. Tongs whipped out from below, a towel appeared without effort, and the stove’s finicky temperature settings were subtly mastered. And the bacon crisped.
Compared to my previous kitchen, dancing in the unknown can be uncomfortable, and quite scary, at first. But once you get a hang of where the utensils are, and how to turn up the heat, you’re on your way to a fabulous tango.
Using a slotted spoon and a butter knife to flip your eggs makes almost anything seem possible. Here’s to many more meals in a foreign kitchen. Let’s go!
This post isn’t about cooking breakfast.