The Progression Of…

Cookin For Tostada

I watched him fix a sandwich and the idea popped in my head to feed him. I don’t know about you but my randomness rules me. I didn’t care how much it’d cost or that I’ve never made anything like this in my life. I just wanted to do something sweet. I wanted him to taste my sincerity and love for him as person. I also wanted to get over the fear of cooking for someone I like.

When I figured out what I wanted to do, I was confident but three stores in I was having a meltdown messaging my chef friend on Twitter trying to avoid all the blocks the devil was attempting to throw me. Five stores in, I wanted to give up but I already spent $40 and I wasn’t going to throw my money or the day away.

The sixth store finally had the black truffle oil that I needed but I still ended up at two more stores at the crack of dawn because I freaked that the BBQ sauce I originally bought tasted like backwashed vomit and the vinegar coleslaw tasted like a pile of anxiety and fuck shit.

I remember standing in Walmart looking for vegan mayonnaise asking God why he was putting me through so much just to make some coleslaw. Why he took my granny from me because she would have helped me and I could trust her opinion. I had so many thoughts that I had to go to the bakery and buy a piece of cake to calm my nerves.

I had told him not to eat earlier so there was no turning back.

After finding another 24 hour store, I was able to find the mayo and I went home and gave myself a pep talk, put some Chris Brown on and went to chopping away at the cabbage. Mid twerk I cut myself but I felt the shift in my mood from nerves to confidence. When I was done I took a bite and milly rocked.

It was lit. I was lit.

Then I woke up and I was sick to my stomach. My nerves were shot. I had to pull over on the way to my dentist appointment and throw up at a gas station. I have never wanted something to go more right and made myself sick with worry like this. I struggled to wait until 12 to start cooking.

He text me saying he was going to be late coming over. I was about to have a meltdown. How can I time tardiness? But I went into the kitchen, set up my iPad, took out the recipes, put on Chris Brown again and began cooking. I danced around the kitchen, flipping, stirring and twerking and then I almost burned the jackfruit.

My cousin tasted my food since it hurt to move my new Invisalign tray. He seemed to enjoy it but I was worried because sometimes that rugrat lies.

The time that he was supposed to come came and went and I was thinking, “Fam not again.” I was checking my phone like does it work still? He had me looking out the window like a 90s R&B video.

Then a text came through and he asked me if it was too late to come over and I was like screaming at my phone ITS NEVER EVER EVER TOO LATE but I sent a cool little text and reheated his food and proceeded to stare at the window.

Honestly, since I barely tasted it, I didn’t know how he’d react but I watched my cousin demolish the meal like it was the best thing since Pokémon Go so I was hopeful that he could taste the effort and love that I poured into his lunch.

When he walked in the door, he was excited to hear I made him lunch. He thought the pulled jackfruit was actual pork. He fucked it up. Asked for seconds while still eating firsts. He was in a daze saying my name and moaning a bit while thanking me for his lunch.

I was behind him smiling from ear to ear like is he serious or gassing me? Either way I was lit and I was loading the dishwasher like this:

Too lit. There wasn’t a crumb left. I was so damn satisfied.

Heres to the next conquered fear. 🥂

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