When inspiration fails...

Everyday I face the same task of opening the refrigerator, inspecting the ingredients, and, hopefully, having inspiration strike. This routine is hit or miss: sometimes I immediately jump into action and whip up a new, exciting, and delectable concoction. Other times I stand with the door open for minutes on end, staring blankly into the fridge and allowing countless dollars of energy to seep out.

On the days where coming up with something to cook seems a greater task than solving a Rubik’s Cube while blindfolded I wonder how it would be possible to avoid food slumps. My first choice is turning to the familiar faces of the Food Network to comfort me with their sweet promises of a new culinary masterpiece.

After a few minutes of Giada, Bobby, or Ina I’ve found inspiration. I jump up from the couch and race towards the fridge, imagining that suddenly I will see a feast where I had previously seen famine.

Yet, alas, the trusty television failed to provide me with the necessary ingredients. I consider driving to the store, finding the demanded food items, shelling out the cash, and then heading home to prepare… However, by this time, I know the comforts of the couch and tell myself I’d be better off with a bowl of cereal.

As a turn towards the cabinet I feel a sense of defeat. Suddenly, a second wave of energy: No, I don’t need to offerings of the grocery store to feed my hunger! I can, and will, make something from the selection I have at home!

Still a little bitter with television I go to my second option of online recipe searches, where I am confident I will find some meal to match even my skimpy selection. From this point I think of what I want my creation to be centered around. While this still requires a push of mental energy, it is much less daunting than creating an entire meal on my own.

I scan the multitude of recipes for something that fits my discerning hunger pains. As I click through the pages up pops a recipe under some foreign name. I am intrigued, so I follow the link and find a strange, yet appetizing, combination of ingredient—all of which I have in my kitchen!
From that point I jump to action. I grab the once seemingly unrelated items; I do some whipping, a little sauteing, and a bit of rolling. I throw it all in the oven, walk away for a while, then return to the sweet aroma of unfamiliar cuisine. In frenzied anticipation I dish out a serving and dig in—only to find a taste my dog would refuse.

Oh well, maybe tomorrow I will restock my kitchen, stumble upon inspiration, and regain my self-proclaimed title of good cook, but, for now, cereal is calling my name.