I like to cook. My friends like to cook. Yes, I have friends. Some have suggested that I have friends only because I cook well, but enough speculation for now.
We like to cook in my apartment. It makes for wonderful nights of wining and dining. We watch "Entourage," "Grey's" or bad scary movies. We eat pesto, mozzarella and tomatoes. We've made sushi, seafood pasta, steaks, chili and lots of other wonderful foods that turn into leftovers. Even the simple late night Ramen still gets cooked in our kitchen. All of this means we've also made a lot of messes.
Which brings us to a rather crucial observation: In restaurants, after you eat the food, everything gets taken away! Magic!
In our apartment, however, there is no young man or woman dressed in theme clothing refilling our drinks and taking away the appetizer after we have finished it. Granted we have never had a problem refilling our own drinks, but we do seem to have a problem with the dirty plates. Even as I write this, three semi-full glasses sit on my bedside table and a steak-and-cheese sub-less plate rests next to me on my bed. There is actually a bug swimming through one of the glasses. Ew.
Why is this basic hygienic process so challenging? I can live on my own, work, take classes (not that I am doing the latter two at the moment, but hypothetically I could), but something about rubbing the uneaten remains off of someone's plate bothers me in the lowest parts of my stomach. Even if whatever had been on the plate already is in the lowest part of my stomach. Stomachs are not particularly rational parts of our anatomy.
This might not be such a problem if we had, what I like to call, "the best thing to happen to kitchens since sliced bread," and what other people like to call "a disposal." You flip a switch, and the worst of the remains are crushed into oblivion, never to be touched by my hands.
I also have a problem with the way sponges make my hands smell. Call me weird, but I don't enjoy smelling like a dog mistook my hand for a fire hydrant. All in all, the whole situation makes me want to vom (i.e. get sick, regurgitate, blow chunks, etc.)
Now at this point, all the responsible people reading this have probably sighed and maybe turned their attention to a more mature piece. Fine, I don't want you reading my column anyway. I will maintain that there must be a better (i.e. easier, not involving me, etc.) way to get your kitchen clean.
My first plan of attack was simple. If I cooked, then someone else would clean. This tactic has proven effective. Unfortunately, when you cook for a group of twenty-something year-old college men this sometimes backfires. This type of group is why I still have pasta in my sink from four nights ago.
Plan scrapped. Second attempt -- try to guilt house guests into helping. Hey, they're watching my cable, using my electricity, why shouldn't they clean my mess? So far, this has worked even worse than the former plan. The best I can get is an occasional trash bag being carried downstairs.
This leaves me with only one desperate solution: I like to call it "The Waiting Game." Who can stand the smell the longest? Who will break first? Really, this is more of a test of character than anything else. Which roommate is the strongest?
So far, I have not been winning this game. Of course, one could argue that no one really wins at this game.
This is part of college life, I know, a time-honored initiation process that I must undergo to enter the real world that I can see coming at me with frighteningly increasing speed. When it gets here, I am probably going to need at least a couple clean forks.
What am I going to do today? I will probably break like a sissy, go buy trash bags and Clorox, maybe some industrial plastic gloves and a nose plug. I will dive into that sink of old pasta and the surrounding beer-can battlefield and make my dent.
Afterwards, for dinner, I will go out to a restaurant.
Clare can be reached at ondrey@cavalierdaily.com.
Read More
It’s okay not to be okay
By Mai Hukuoka | 2 days agoWhether talking to a friend, a loved one or a professional, it is so necessary, and human, to need more than you can provide for yourself.
Taking a break at Tangerines Kitchen
By Charley Thomas | 4 days agoWhat the restaurant somewhat lacks in ambiance, it compensates for in tasty dishes and prompt service.
Virginia Policy Lab — a hub for student-led policy action
By Katherine Haden | December 9, 2024Students propose their own projects and collaborate with other members to research their issues of interest, brainstorm solutions and write policy proposals.
