If you are searching for one more useless than you in the kitchen, you need look no farther than me.
I rarely venture into the kitchen, save for finding something to drink from teh refrigerator, and when I do, I feel as though I am adrift and lost in a hostile and threatening land.
I can not cook. Anything. At all. I can't prepare macaroni and cheese. To me, cooking is akin to sorcery--strange rituals are performed over fire, using many bizarre ingredients unrecognizable by me, and the result, magically, is food.
I don't know what lies in our kitchen, and I don't care to. I can often not even recognize objects of food before they are prepared, and I am mystified by their application. All my friends know better than to ask me if we have this or that ingredient on hand; in fact, most of my friends have a far better knowledge of the contents of our refrigerator and our pantry than do I. My incompetence in the kitchen is widely known and talked about--the stuff of legends and myths.
Fortunately, I have a Sicilian wife who loves to cook, and takes great pleasure in her skill at the culinary arts. Were that not so, I would eat nothing save for what is offered on the menu at McDonald's.
I wonder, is that a vice?