This is how we do.

The boy and I are both adventurous cooks. My adventure involves wingin’ it. I like taking a good, long look in the crisper, then diving in and making it up as I go. Sure, I use recipes. I see them as a sort of guideline. I categorize the ingredients and substitute like items as I see fit. Don’t have endive? Let’s try arugula! Fresh out of lime juice? Pop in a lemon! Just finished a bottle of teriyaki? Throw some brown sugar and soy sauce in a skillet and watch it dance! And don’t even get me started on measuring. Suffice it to say that “handful” and “shwooshy shake” mean more to me than “cup” and “teaspoon,” ya heard?

Par esempio...

The man in my life is adventurous about his ingredients. He’ll browse online at work and find a recipe for brandy and shallot soaked stead and not even bat an eye. A recent fav? Orange butter chicken with grated beets and kale. Honestly, I think he has more food-related apps on his iPhone than any other type of app. He loves to find obscure amounts of ingredients (1/4 teaspoon of orange zest, for the record, is roughly 1/8 of an orange.) And homeboy loves a recipe. He takes them so seriously. He sets the timer for 30 seconds. He measures 1T olive oil to sauté onions.

What’s really hilarious about all of this is that our kitchen styles are totally opposite our personality styles. I’m a fairly methodical person. I enjoy color-coding. I can usually tell you what time it is without the aid of a timepiece. I’d like to wallpaper a room in my house with maps. The boy is more of a free-spirit. He has 700 black pens (don't even mention blue ones.) I’m not sure he’s ever owned a watch. I think he needs Google Maps to find the backyard.

But in the kitchen, we’re… well… we’re still ourselves. Just different facets of ourselves.

Neurotic or not... El Duderino can cook!

How do you roll in the kitchen?