All the way back at the end of September I decided (with a lot of encouragement) that I was going to book myself onto a cooking course, all on my own. It seemed like a really good idea at the time, after all it’s meant to be good to get out of your comfort zone.

I don’t consider myself a particularly confident or outgoing person especially in strange situations so this was a big thing for me. 

Yesterday was the day of reckoning and after a lot of stressing, flapping and heart palpitations I finally attended my cooking class. 

The class was to learn how to cook vegitarian Indian food (keen readers might recognise some of those as Laura’s least favourite words) I love Indian food, I love cooking it and I love eating it but I’ve never had any lessons other than consuming anything spicy that’s put in front of me with great joy.

You’re all up to date now so let me take you on the journey of my first cooking class. 

After standing in the freezing cold for 10 minutes I decided I couldn’t put it off any longer and I had to go inside and face my fears. 

I eventually found the door and discovered that the class was on the 6th floor, I spotted a lift but decided to take the stairs instead, after all if I have a heart attack on my way up no one would judge me for not going. 

Sadly/happily no heart attack and I walk into the class, there’s a few people in there milling around and the teacher lady giving her assistants instructions in English so I calm down a little but the calm quickly disappeared after no one acknowledged my presence in the room for quite some time. 

 My panic is quelled when a man comes round with a clip board and asks for people’s name, I walk up and tell him my name is Joe, panic returns as he can’t see my name, it turns out that this idiot filled out for forms as Mr J Cogan, thankfully Mr clipboard was smarter than me and worked out who I was.

Back to calm for a little bit.  

Mr clipboard then starts chatting in Icelandic but I could tell he was saying once I’ve ticked your name come get an apron, I thought this would be the last of his involvement so decided there was no need to confess my lack of Icelandic skills as the rest of the lesson would be in England. 

Nope 

Mr clipboard then gives a 5 minute talk covering what I think was health and safety, a detailed description of every item of the kitchen and of course throwing in some jokes, during this time I just wanted to run out the door, cry or just melt into the floorboards, anything to get me out.

At last Mr clipboard left and Mrs teacher starts teaching in English, phew, she tell us all about the class and about the ingredients, everything is good.  

“get into groups of 4” RUN! MELT! RUN! CRY! 

I turn around and see a couple near me who look friendly (for those who know, he looked exactly like pappa Dave) I asked them if I could join them, they looked suprised but said ok, we did introductions and then went over to a workstation where another lady was waiting and seemed to be part of our group, I don’t know how that happened but she was nice.

We had 4 dishes to make so we went into 2 groups between us, the couple made Roti’s and Alu Matar Paratha while me and the lady made Palak Chole and a mint yogurt.  

For those wondering Palak Chole is a dish made primarily from chickpeas and spinach.

The first step was to read the recipe and get then get started, my partner wanted to dive right in and start toasting spices but if there’s one thing my mum managed to get into my head while showing me how to cook it was to get everything prepared before you start cooking. 

I insisted my my partner that we do that and she went along with it. – I see this as my first big step, I was actually confident enough to insist on something and it paid off.

Next stop we start toasting the spices and manage to burn our dried chilli, my partner wants to carry on but I wanted to check with the teacher, knowing that burning something this early is going to echo throughout the rest of the dish.

Sure enough we’d fucked it, to the point that the teacher gathered the entire class around and we were the “don’t do what they did” example. 

No worries though it was easy to start again.

This time we did it right and later on actually go used as a good example so swings and roundabouts. 

Cooking went on fairly well, my partner kept forgetting I don’t speak Icelandic but quickly realised every time when I looked at her with blank panic. 

 I know this all sounds a bit negative but I did actually learn quite a lot, most importantly I understood the importance of salt and just how much should be using, I’ve always been really stingy with my salt but now I know. Plus I’ve got loads of receipes to try at home. 

Finally all the food was made and it was time to eat. I knew this was go into be a challenge but it was nearly over, we all went over to the table and took our places, I chose a seat at the end of the table and then a minute later the couple from my group asked me to move around and take the seat at the head of the table. Just the spot for someone who wants as little attention as possible. On the plus side at least I had people near me that knew I didn’t speak Icelandic.

The meal began and from that moment on I’d didn’t really say much expect takk and thank you, at one point a girl was telling what looked like a very amusing story and kept making eye contact with me, all I wanted to do was confess that I didn’t understand a word coming from her mouth. 

Eventually it was time to leave and I walked home and got to see some incredible northern lights. The end. 

So to sum up with giant post, it was terrifying, a bit difficult and way out of my comfort zone but I’m glad I did it, I’m really proud of myself for doing it and not running away at any point. It’s certainly not something I would have done in England so I can only assume that Iceland is fixing me. 

I think that’s all I’ve got to say, panic is over and now I’m going to sleep.  

Here’s some pictures of what we cooked.  

Everything on the table ready to eat 

Roti and Paratha

Palak Chole 

Tofu thing I can’t remember the name of 

Northern lights captured by my phone