The plan: Risotto, grilled eggplant, salad. All on the table, with the kitchen cleaned up before my spouse got home from work.
The reality: Tastes like risotto (sort of) but has the consistency and colour of wallpaper paste. The eggplant, overly-salted, is inedible. I pour myself a big glass of wine and head upstairs to check my email while my spouse makes the salad. Clean up after dinner. Leave filthy pots for tomorrow.
Oh well. 'Tis better to have cooked and failed than never to have cooked at all. Right?
Tomorrow is a chemo day. I need to promise myself to take another stab at this cooking thing after I've recovered.