step one: open box
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2007-03-06: step one: open box

Any recipe that begins like that...I just can't seem to wrap my head - or my stomach - around. Does that make me a snob? Or worse, have I, over the past few years, transformed into - horror of horrors - a food snob?

I don't think so. I mean, honestly I have eaten my fair share of TV dinners, pre-packaged foods and boxed mixes. I continue to have only-satisfied-by-death-or-delivery cravings for take-out once in a while and I have been known to eat popcorn for dinner at least once a month. I do have a butter chicken mix in my cupboard as well as some Uncle Ben's rice mixes...but I don't know if I want to admit just how long those have been there. Oh, yeah, and sin of foodie sins: I am most definitely not a fan of leftovers.

But those foodie foibles aside I tend to gravitate towards recipes that actually require more work than (1) open package, (2) pour package into microwave bowl and (3) heat until hot. For starters I don't own a microwave - unless you count the old, decrepit one hiding in a closet in S's office closet that we haven't used in over a year. I should really get one because I can only assume normal people don't have to defrost their chicken in the sink full of ice water over a few hours, nor do they have to thaw their home made baby food in a bowl in the fridge over night.

Those sorts of "semi-homemade" recipes drive me batty. Actually, no. Allow me to correct myself on that: the people who "come up" with "semi-homemade" recipes drive me batty. The Rachael Rays. The Sandra Lees. The Anti-Marthas and Anti-Nigellas of the world who think it is much too difficult to make real food with real flavour and real ingredients. And they don't stop there. They actually go out of their way to give their audience not only the excuse to engage in this type of cooking (and I use that term loosely), but they try to make you feel as though you are an alien if you think good food requires effort. That good food requires more effort than popping open a tin or ripping open a package of pre-cut vegetables and one of powdered sauce mix.

I thought about this while I munched on the remains of a pile of Asian-flavoured chicken wings I made recently. Yes, I could have easily gone to the supermarket and bought some great pre-made, frozen wings and simply baked them off for the "guy's night" S. was having at our place. But why do that when you can make truly delicious food from scratch, flavoured the way you want, ready to eat when you want, made with a bit more concern for what you're serving your guests...? And secretly, I adore all the belly-rubbing, lip-smacking and compliments that follow a good meal that I have made. When a guest turns away from a basketball game, chicken wing in hand and says "Jennifer, these are amazing" I smile and nod and secretly go all gooey and googily inside.