i don't want to be a chef

Intentions

Perhaps ever since I'd started writing the Baked series, the most-requested content (besides the constant pleas for white stuff, of course) was a book dedicated to recipes featured in the Honeycutt's Bakery, now known as Baked Love. Naturally, I was unable to fulfil such requests seeing as I, well, am nowhere near qualified to be sharing recipes for fear of ruining your kitchens or your poor tummies.

It is, however, after a good eight years of writing about food that I have found in myself the confidence to present this to you; much like how the writer of this book presented the first draft of it to his editor on his birthday by a pool and asked him out like the idiot he is.

I've always thought cookbooks were the strangest form of publication. You see, more often than so, they'd either be too complicated to understand without visual aids (admittedly, YouTube did not exist until twenty years ago) and they'd be written by, well, people who were at the very least established in the field and loved cooking as is. Cookbooks are also more often than so written for people who equally loved and respected the culinary arts and had an interest enough to make the purchase.

This is not such a book.

This book is written by an idiot who'd lived most of his culinary life for one person in mind only to realize that it was taking him apart. This person is also coincidentally the chief editor of the publishing company that picked up this book. The author does not love cooking. Nor does he want to be a chef. As such, he understands to a great extent, I daresay, how someone who hates cooking may struggle in the kitchen—either trying to impress someone important or perhaps merely to keep themselves fed and alive.

In times of the pandemic, most of the world remains stuck within four walls. Perhaps now is the time; the time for non-chefs, non-lovers of food, unmotivated idiots like Leroy Cox to butter their pans, pre-heat their ovens and realize the magic of food.

Enjoy.

L. O. Red

Cuppie