I hate cooking with oil. More specifically, I hate frying with oil, regardless of the amount. I’ve been burned so many times on my hands and arms whenever I’ve done it– twice, I was burned badly enough that it left huge scars that were visible for years upon years. Yet every time something calls for frying in oil, I get to it without even thinking twice. It’s not until I hear that first pop! and sizzle that my stomach knots up and I remember just how much I hate this. I’m filled with anxiety and dread until the whole ordeal is over, convinced that one of these days, the oil’s going to get me in the face (the worst-case scenario involves oil hitting me in the eye).
There are less risk-intensive– healthier, even– alternatives, of course: steaming or baking or even frying using non-stick spray. But it’s not the same. The taste, the texture isn’t the same. Sometimes, for the sake of culinary integrity, oil frying is the only way to go, casualties be damned. The final product tends to be worth it. And you know? Even when I do get burned, I take a few seconds or minutes to nurse and tend to my wounds, but I never turn off the flame. I stick it through.
Still, though. I hate it. Every time.