Please Sir, I Want Some More

I haven't had many cooking opportunities lately, but I've also been quite lazy.  I could make good food, or pay someone to make great food--and handle the cleanup.  Tough choice.  To force myself back into the kitchen, I promise my girlfriend's mother that I will start cooking for her daughter again.  That's a promise this Boy Scout can't break.

Now I find myself in a small kitchen--in which I cannot lay across on the ground if desired--armed with a cast iron skillet, a pot, and a recently acquired ceramic knife (butter knives weren't cutting it anymore), staring at my hungry belle.   I miss my Japanese steel and French pans, but I remember that it is I who does the cooking, not them.  Of course a 10" Classic Shun Chef Knife slices more gracefully than the bright orange (assumed sharp) toy laying in front of me; a Staub dutch oven performs great unseen magic during slow braises deep in the oven; and having more heavy bottomed pans than burners is completely necessary for a cook raised with the 'be prepared' mantra--but being a good cook is often about ingenuity, and sometimes sacrificing presentation for flavor.