When the Cheshire emerges...

Yes, I know, I have a slight obsession with the stuff. I love eating it, smelling it, and heck, just looking at it. But anyone who listened to me on Fresh before leaving Adelaide will know I was petrified about the fact I had to learn how to cook. Ab-so-lute-ly petrified. Not cleaning (although using a washing machine is surprisingly still an art to be crafted), not living by myself - or living so far away from everyone I know for that matter, but cooking.

But since the move I've really found an appreciation for it.

Living by myself I couldn't rely on anyone else, and I couldn't stand the thought of having Subway or sandwiches every night. So armed with plenty of cookbooks that were great presents, I started browsing to suss what I could be capable of. And it wasn't much. But a lot of recipes really aren't difficult once you have a go of the style of cooking once (like baking, although my tuna bake failed a bit).