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"Ow, motherfucker!" Rachel exclaims, waiving her mutliated and burned hand away from the hot oil popping out of the pan. "This is so stupid. I hate homework."
Rachel had signed up for the cooking class because it seemed like a mom should be able to cook meals for her family. Is it her fault that she grew up with a cook? Her mom sure as shit never cooked a thing and she's determined to be different. Yeah, they have people to do that shit around here, but she can't drag her kid up to the compound every time she wants a meal. She's going to learn how to cook and she's going to do it in her own home. Well, once the weird half kitchen thing is finished. God bless Raylan.
Until then, she's using the compound kitchen and cheating a little. Enlisting some help. Stir fry is hard.
Rachel had signed up for the cooking class because it seemed like a mom should be able to cook meals for her family. Is it her fault that she grew up with a cook? Her mom sure as shit never cooked a thing and she's determined to be different. Yeah, they have people to do that shit around here, but she can't drag her kid up to the compound every time she wants a meal. She's going to learn how to cook and she's going to do it in her own home. Well, once the weird half kitchen thing is finished. God bless Raylan.
Until then, she's using the compound kitchen and cheating a little. Enlisting some help. Stir fry is hard.
