Victim: Megan Westmoreland, senior biology major, Presidential Scholar and pre-med honor student at the University of Georgia: "I don't cook because I don't know how, and I don't want to burn anything down."

Interventionist: Brittney Inman, senior journalism major, food lover, cook and victim's roommate: "I once witnessed Megan 'make pasta' by dumping frozen ravioli in an empty pot and turning on the stove. She literally does not know how to boil water. I refuse to watch as she gulps down imitation crab sticks and plain turkey sandwiches as rapidly as a marathon runner chugs a bottle of water. There is only one thing I can do — perform a kitchen intervention."

(ENLARGE)

Brittney Inman.

THE STUDENTS AND THEIR RECIPES Brittney Inman • Santa Fe Chili Kali Justus • Stuffed Pork Tenderloin • Kali's sister Destiny's Italian Tomato Cheesy Bread Rachel Jacques • Risotto with Garlic Shrimp and Sauteed Spinach Karlee Baumann • Indoor Barbecue Taylor Dahl • Corn Dip • Broccoli Casserole • Chocolate Poundcake In a hurry to cook? Read the short version of this feature on Evening Edge.

Interventionist: Megan, as your concerned roommate and friend, I would like to improve the quality of your culinary life. The first step is to recognize that you have a problem. Do you admit to having problems with cooking?

Victim: I suppose so. Actually, yes ... yes, I do.

Interventionist: The second step is for you to permit yourself to receive treatment. Are you willing to cooperate in learning how to cook?

Victim: Are you being serious? I guess. If you really want me to.

Interventionist: The third step is to take action. I will guide you through two intense cooking lessons, culminating in a dinner party that you will cater without my assistance. How do you feel about participating in my step-by-step Kitchen Intervention program?

Victim: Not enthusiastic. I prefer to eat rather than cook.

Boneless Chicken Breasts and Doughnuts / Kitchen Intervention: Stage I

"Go ahead and wash the green beans in the colander," I say, pointing to the cabinet above the sink, where I keep the colander, measuring cup and salad bowl.

"The colander is my favorite kitchen instrument; it's versatile and it's cool-looking," Megan says, eating a powdered sugar doughnut from the plastic Publix box next to the stove. "Wait, do you want me to wash the beans with soap?"

"Now, mix the pesto, sun-dried tomatoes, mozzarella and garlic together in the bowl. This Italian blend will serve as stuffing for the chicken," I say, motioning toward the cluster of ingredients on the green countertop.

"Can I mix it with my fingers?" Megan asks as she plunges her right hand into the bowl, while eating a chocolate-covered doughnut with her left.

"Remember, if you want to cook this dish again, these are called boneless chicken breasts. Now, stuff the mixture into the chicken breasts, which are already slit down the middle. "

"Boneless chicken breasts, boneless chicken breasts ..." Megan echoes, whispering the name into her memory and reaching toward the package of raw meat. "Eeeewwww, why does it feel like that?"

Ten doughnuts later, our kitchen table boasts plates of Italian stuffed chicken, green beans and couscous. Stage I is a success, even though Megan suffered a minor burn on her index finger: "Taking things out of the oven is my least favorite part."

Pam and Cheese / Kitchen Intervention: Stage II

"Megan, meet your new best friend, Pam. She knows how to make your scrambled eggs not stick to the pan." I grab the red and yellow spray can from the cabinet and shake it in Megan's direction. "Go ahead and coat the frying pan generously. Then, pour in the mixture of eggs, butter and milk. You can also add some salt and pepper."

She sprays Pam, pours the eggs and then grabs the pepper grinder, shaking it until eight black grains dot the yellow puddle in the pan.

"Megan, you have to twist the grinder, not shake it. Otherwise, hardly any pepper will come out."

A few minutes later, Stage II is a success. "Breakfast is easy," Megan says through a mouthful of cheddar-cheesy, creamy scrambled eggs.

A rich repertoire of Tex-Mex aromas saturates apartment 903 as a pot of Santa Fe Chili simmers on the stove. Megan's diligent student self is in full swing; she stirs the bubbling mixture of beans, tomatoes and beef every 20 minutes, and between stirring sessions, she studies the recipes, illuminated on her nearby laptop.

I refused to assist Megan in cooking for tonight's dinner party, but I realized that leaving her completely on her own in the kitchen may be like leaving Britney Spears alone with her children — traumatizing and possibly dangerous. I decided to allow Megan to use startcooking.com, a Web site that targets non-cooks and teaches them the culinary basics, such as how to slice an onion, how to crack open an egg and how to brown ground beef.

"This Web site is really neat. Not only does it have simple directions, but it also has videos, showing you how to do things, and pictures of the ingredients," Megan says.

Megan's guests were shocked to learn she'd done the cooking. "What? Are you kidding me?" Lauren Raney cries with a smile. "I thought that Megan had absolutely no cooking skills," says Amanda Latson. "I was surprised because the meal was actually very good."

A few glasses of wine and spoonfuls of Santa Fe Chili later, and the Kitchen Intervention is complete — another success.

"I think it went really well. It was a good feeling of accomplishment when everything worked out," Megan says.