One Step Closer To Becoming A Better Man

Nobody is perfect. We all have our flaws. Everyone aspires to be more than just average, but not everyone succeeds in that. However, we don’t have to settle for being “average”. We can improve. We can grow. We can become better. Sometimes we need a reason to refine ourselves. Someone that makes us want to transform from ordinary to extraordinary. Other times the only reason you need is yourself. To become a better person. Nothing more. Nothing less. I don’t set ridiculous goals for myself that are out of reach. Instead I take it one step at a time. Learning how to cook – I’m just one step closer to becoming a better man.

The apron I wear when I "attempt" to cook.

I know my strengths and I’m all too aware of my weaknesses. I’m human. I have flaws. I don’t dwell on my flaws though. I embrace them, lightly. I poke fun at myself. If I can’t laugh at myself, then who can I laugh at? I’m a grown man who can’t cook and who spells like a 2-year-old. Not exactly something to brag about. (And not exactly something I should admit publicly, but what’s done is done.) I can get away with the bad spelling thanks to spell check. The world doesn’t need to know it’s my crutch. I manage. I get by. Let’s leave it at that. Now cooking…well that’s a whole different story.

This Valentine’s Day I wanted to do something different. Something that showed I went the extra mile. That I’m not the typical guy who waits until February 14th, scrounging around for the last bouquet of roses and grabbing whatever mystery box of chocolates that is within arm’s reach. I actually take time beforehand and put some true thought into it. In this case, I began right after Christmas. The wheels were already turning. I had an idea. I thought things thru. I planned. I prepared. I even prayed. I wanted things to be just right. Failure wasn’t an option. I decided I was going to cook Valentine’s Day dinner to surprise my “kinda sorta not really girlfriend”. She’s a kinda sorta not really girlfriend, because she has all the ingredients of a potential girlfriend, but at the moment lacks the girlfriend title. The main ingredient I was missing – not knowing how to cook, at all!

Don’t get me wrong. I can make things in the kitchen, like a mess or a small fire. I wasn’t going to kid myself. I was in dire need of help. If I was going to pull this off, I desperately needed a professional to train me. Lucky for me, my kinda sorta not really girlfriend’s Mom is the head chef at a 5 star restaurant. It’s like having my very own Rachel Ray in my kitchen, only better! I informed her Mom of my intentions on Christmas Day. That I was hoping she could give me some private cooking lessons in the weeks prior to Valentine’s Day. I didn’t expect her to turn me into a chef overnight, but I was hoping she could give me the tools and the knowhow to pull off a single dinner – complete with appetizer, entrée and dessert. Dessert was the most important. It would be the final taste on her lips so it needed to make a good lasting impression.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. I doubted myself. Could I even pull this off? My kitchen talents pretty much consist of the ability to boil water and make toast. Yes, it’s that pathetic. It’s why I often dine out. Miraculously though, there is hope for me. You CAN in fact teach an old dog new tricks. I now can cook…well at least one appetizer, entrée and dessert. It’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind. The man being me. The cooking challenged bachelor.

I learned more than just how to make lobster ravioli and some fancy French raspberry chocolate dessert that I can actually pronounce, but can’t actually spell during a 6 week crash course in cooking. I learned that the thought, time and effort I put into making just one night perfect for someone far outweighs any great tasting dish I could ever possibly create. I asked her to rate my cooking, to give me a grade so I knew what I needed to improve or change upon. I was told I get an A in effort and romance. That my cooking was surprisingly good and that if I really wanted to impress her, don’t change anything about myself. Maybe I’m a good enough guy. That being myself is enough. But I still feel there is always room for improvement.