Cooking and Latvian Mail-Order Grandparents

Cooking! Cooking is pretty cool, as such I shall dedicate this blog post to cooking and all the wonderful things that come from cooking, such as food, more food, and washing up!
Until recently I was unaware of the joys of cooking, my culinary skills were limited to placing pre-made food stuffs in a warm box (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oven) which applied heat to them for a set period of time before letting me know that I would not die if I ate said food.
BUT HARK! A HERALD CALLS! He is calling my name, he says he rang twice and only got my machine so he's here now to deliver the message in person!
You can sometimes cook food that hasn't been through a processing plant! Amazing, I know!
This all started about 4 weeks ago, when I moved back to Cork for HIGHER LEARNING! After 10 months of a long-distance relationship with my mucho awesome girlfriend I was finally living in the city again and as such we did what any geographically challenged couple would do given the circumstances, WE MADE DINNER!
What did we make? You might ask, your voice a quiver with anticipation, excitement and dare I say, GENUINE INTEREST? (Capslock is my favourite.)
WELL!
2 large chicken fillets (from the English Market, I am so proud of my ability to go there for reasons other than shortcuts)
4 Cloves of Garlic
1 gigantic bread roll
Butter!

Garlic Chicken Stirfry (with bacon bits!) and Garlic Bread.
As if you hadn't guessed.

As usual, the fun is in the cooking of the food rather than the eating, though I have to say it was pretty damn tasty. Then again, I am a Van Helsing 5 times removed, so garlic is a favourite of mine.

Oh god I've started rambling. I was a ramblin' man. BUT NOT ANYMORE.

I have entirely lost my train of thought thanks to a certain friend of mine on Gtalk. However, I feel that this post more than qualifies for my mandatory weekly blogercise session and so I will call it quits. Put an end to it. Tell it to get the hell out of here, I know it has no money. Call the cops. File a restraining order. Maybe even change my name!
At least till next week, or the weekend, or whenever I feel like filling my screen with nonsense again!

PS - Learn to cook, it's fantastic.
PPS - Make sure you do the washing up afterwards or you are the worst flatmate EVER.
PPPS - STEAK THIS WEEKEND


-Joe!