Some people never learn

The boyfriend and I have been together almost seven months now, and I've
made it that entire time without cooking anything fancier for him than
omelets and boxed macaroni and cheese. (And I almost screwed up the mac and
cheese -- long story.)

For the first few months of our relationship, I was finishing up college and
living in a dorm. The only cooking device at my disposal was a microwave,
so it was the perfect excuse. Since graduation, I've been freeloading off
my parents -- why cook if my mom will? On the occasions when I didn't eat
with my parents, I ate with friends, went out, or enjoyed the boyfriend's
skill with the grill.

But tonight, barring unforeseen circumstances, I'm taking the plunge and
trying out a recipe for chicken and pasta that I thought looked within my
capabilities.

My latest culinary disaster happened last weekend. I found myself with a
rare free Saturday afternoon, so I decided to try out a recipe for these
little fried cakes that my Spanish abuela, Jesusa, often made for us.
They're called "rosquillas." Jesusa's were always light, perfectly backed
and lightly flavored with sugar. The recipe I had looked pretty simple.
But something went wrong, and my rosquillas somehow ended up being greasy,
dense, and tasteless (once I gathered the courage to try them). I threw
them out before anyone else could make the mistake of biting into one.

I've been told I'm a bad cook because I'm impatient and easily distracted.
Oh, and my expectations are too high. (Three strikes and you're out?) The
rosquillas were one in a string of culinary misfires, and I won't bore you
further by describing them all. While tonight's meal won't be quite the
drama of Sal's grilling adventures (I won't have to construct any flower-pot
cooking devices), it will certainly be interesting to see how it turns out.
The boyfriend has assured me that he'll like it (or pretend to like it) no
matter what, so at least I have that in my favor. I'm going to be sure to
have a good wine on hand to wash it all down with... and maybe we'll get
buzzed enough that we won't notice how bad the food tastes.