Taking a couple of weeks out of the heat of the kitchen at home and living off your mum’s cooking doesn’t sound like a bad idea, in fact, it’s a wonderful idea. For the first time in three or so months, I tasted vegetables and meat cooked properly. I enjoyed lamb chops and parsnips, carrots too! However, this ultimate luxury wasn’t going to last for long as I would soon enough be returning to London and that would mean having to be independent, once again.
The whole idea of living independently sounds ace, until you realise that as soon as you dump your stuff in the flat, you have to immediately do a quick shop for toilet paper, a bottle of milk and a packet of chewing gum before TESCO closes. What is really scary, that return to the kitchen that you have to do. If you leave it too late, and you’ll forget how not to give yourself food poisoning, return too soon and you think you remember well enough, but it’ll turn out you really haven’t a clue.
Now that it’s been a week since my return, I decided to really venture out and cook something special. I combined all the things I learned since starting uni, and all the tips my wonderful mum has shown me over Christmas and managed to cook my favourite BBQ chicken and pasta.
It’s not really a favourite, just makes me feel like I’m a good chef because of it’s complicatedness, that’s all.
I began by sprinkling my marinade on a baking tray, before throwing some chunks of chicken on it. I washed my hands and sprinkled a little more of the powder over the top and let it begin it’s magic. It was then time to throw some pasta into the saucepan which was ready and waiting with boiling water. I felt so confident that I even took photos!

I continued to balance and juggle between the pasta and the meat, carefully selecting the spices that would add flavour to my meal, while also preparing extras; a packet of grated mozzarella cheese and a glass of water. The time came when the meat was ready for cooking and it was carefully placed on a frying pan before I whacked up the heat. It took a few moments to heat up
before the oil started spitting; I was even more brave with the camera now and took some close up photos, only to get caught out on my bare arms by the burning oil.

It looked delicious though and my stomach was rumbling louder than the music on my iPod. The smell of barbecue was incredible too, really setting the tastebuds on my mouth on fire as they warmed to the taste in the air.
Of course, that was all very well until I realised the pasta was sticking to the side of the pan and that the chicken began to burn. I took the meat of the heat and tipped the pasta into a waiting colander that was perched in the sink. I used some wooden ‘things’ to flip the chicken over to stop it from sticking to the pan and launched the pasta out onto a nearby plate. I slashed open the packet of cheese and poured it over, which began to melt. The chicken was too hot to pick up and the frying pan was balanced so I didn’t dare touch it.
The cupboard door flung open and I reached in for a pair of tongues to pick each and every piece of chicken from the pan. My chicken actually looked like it had been on a barbecue; unintentionally, but it looked the part.
Hello dinner. Welcome back, bad chef.