Jim Gaffigan, You Are Top Microwave Chef!

If you doubted that The New York Times bestselling author and comedian Jim Gaffigan loved food, the title of his latest book, out last week, will set you straight. In Food, A Love Story (Crown Archetype), Gaffigan takes a look at everything from the Baconator to deep-fried ravioli, and we’re sharing some of our favorite excerpts this week

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Photo credit: Brad Barket/Invision/AP

Whenever a politician gives a speech about getting America working again, I always cringe a little. Not just because it’s an empty political promise, but also because I’m not a fan of work in general. I usually think, Ugh, I hope this work isn’t going to involve movement. It better not be yard work! I’m a fan of relaxing, and when I get tired of relaxing I like to do nothing. I view cooking as work. I don’t enjoy cooking, so I don’t follow the logic sometimes presented to me: “Hey, you love food, so you must enjoy cooking.” I also enjoy sleeping, but that doesn’t mean I like making a bed.

Thankfully, other people enjoy cooking. Even more thank­fully, some other people really enjoy cooking. I guess I feel the same way about not cooking that those people feel about cook­ing. It’s really a win-win for everyone involved, especially if the food is free. I occasionally enjoy watching people make food. It’s relaxing, I guess. I have noticed that the Food Network is far more interesting when I’m hungry. When I’m full I usu­ally think, Well, this cooking show is silly. Why would anyone watch this? But when I’m hungry, really hungry, the Food Net­work is amazing, a visual spectacle. I watch it like some of you degenerates watch porn. “Oh yeah. Whip it up, baby!”

As you know by now, I’m an eater, not a cooker. Besides the microwave, I don’t even know what half the stuff in my kitchen is for. Most kitchen appliances just feel like an unnec­essary waste of space. Has anyone not on a cooking show ever even used their blender for anything other than mixed drinks? Before I got married, I stored blankets in my oven. Yes, it was that nice of a place.

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Photo credit: StockFood / Johnson, Eric Anthony

Most of the times when I cook I’m using a microwave, which, of course, is not cooking. It’s just me pressing buttons and waiting for the bing. As I mentioned in my homemade hot dog recipe, I barely even know how to use a microwave. I’ve never tried to light one, but mostly all I know is you aren’t supposed to put metal or wet cats in there. This is not a good thing, given I’m occasionally in charge of feeding a gaggle of small children. “Okay, for lunch here are your options: you can have hot dogs, popcorn, or cold hot dogs.” The manufactur­ers understand there are people like me, which is why micro­waves have buttons like reheat and popcorn. I once stayed in a hotel that had a microwave that had a dinner button. I pressed the dinner button, but when I opened the microwave door, there was no dinner there. I guess the microwave was broken.

When I cook something in a microwave, I rarely read the directions on the packaging. That’s right. I just wing it. I’m dangerous like that. I’m like the Evel Knievel of microwave cooking. I don’t even understand why some microwavable foods have instructions. If you’re cooking a frozen burrito in a microwave, are you that interested in quality? It might as well say, “Toss this into the microwave for a little bit and then shove it into your mouth after it cools, you tub of gluttony.” On Amy’s Bowls you are instructed to “Stop, rotate this dish, and stir the contents.” Like that would happen. I might as well be making something from scratch out of The Joy of Cooking. If microwavable food has any directions beyond “Stick in mi­crowave and press a button,” I assume they were trying to add wording to the packaging to fill space.

BOSS: It’s kind of empty on the back of the package. Maybe add some writing.

EMPLOYEE: About what? It’s a burrito.

BOSS: I don’t know. Tell people how to open the mi­crowave door. The packaging is going to look weird without writing on it.

Microwaves are like winter coats. They warm quickly, peo­ple never clean them, and they look ugly after a year. Nothing that you put in a microwave is that exciting. That’s why there is always forgotten food in there. At times a microwave just seems like a box to hide half-full cups of cold coffee in. The mi­crowave is an odd way to cook anything, when you think about it. From my uninformed viewpoint it seems as though someone thought, Hey, you know the technology of the atomic bomb? What if we used that to make popcorn?

More from Jim:
Say No to Kale
Bacon: The Candy of Meat
Gail Simmons Dishes on the Actual Top Chef, Season 12