Chef Becca

          Since we're on this kick of talking about food mistakes and how appreciative Marc is, I figured let's continue. I have plenty of stories, and they're all funny. This story is going to be a combination of stories, but still entertaining. It started out freshman year when I was always asking Marc to let me cook at his house. I had been super eager to cook all freshman year, and never could because I was on campus. I don't think I ever did get the chance to cook at the house, so on Easter Sunday, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Mind you, I did not have any cooking supplies and was left to cook on a campus kitchen. I remember Marc saying how extra I was being (which I was), but stubborn Becca is super annoying and doesn't know how to chill out. I never told Marc this, but that Sunday, I made three pots of rice before actually giving him some. I burned the first two and was determined to get a half decent serving of rice to Marc just to be extra. (Yes, I was being childish) Anyway, so I made the white rice, and some chicken and offered some to Marc and his roommate. I was not proud whatsoever of that meal, but I didn't want to look stupid saying I was going to cook and then come up empty handed. The next year, I finally had a kitchen and wanted to master rice, so I was cooking nonstop. I eventually became "OKAY" at making rice, but still wasn't completely comfortable. Marc finally decided I could cook at his house and cook for him and his roommates. When I say I was excited, you have no idea how hype I was. I felt like a wife setting up for a party or something. What I didn't realize, is that I'd never cooked for more than 2 people before then. I started cooking the chicken and the rice, and instantly regretted wanting to cook for the whole house. I realized how unprepared I was, and I was in over my head with this task. I couldn't make Marc look bad in front of all his roommates. So, I kept checking the rice, realizing it's not cooking through, and I'm freaking out. Marc walked out of the room and I immediately called my mom asking for help. All she told me was, "Leave the rice alone, and give it time to cook" The only problem with that, was I had told them rice would be done in an hour about 2 hours ago! Finally, when the rice looked somewhat cooked through, I just said screw it, let's eat. Hoping and praying the rice was somewhat edible. I know for a fact that rice was not cooked through as I began eating, and Marc completely downplayed to me how horrible the food was. I couldn't believe how supportive he was, knowing exactly how poorly I had done. Thinking of all these food stories I feel so bad for your stomach babe. I'm sorry I put you through all of that <3

With love always,
Becca Colón

P.s. No more 7's in the Colón house : D