I used to think I was a pretty good cook. (After all, my mother taught me everything I know)That was until I started cooking for Shaun. When we were first married he told me how wonderful everything I prepared was and wolfed it all down. (Sometimes it was so bad that even I couldn’t eat it) Inevitably, as the years passed, so did his appreciation for my lovingly prepared meals. He started calling my style “depression era” cooking and often referred to it as “glop”. I guess that’s when I knew the honeymoon was really over. Sigh…I still don’t understand why anyone wouldn’t be thrilled to feast on such gastronomical delights such as “Saturday Night Special” or “Creamed Eggs over Toast”. Although, come to think of it, my sister-in-law isn’t too thrilled with these masterpieces either…
As my children have gotten older, I have tried to pass on everything my mother taught me about cooking, despite Shaun’s protests. I’ve had mixed results. Mimi is fearless and will experiment with nearly anything in her quest for the perfect meal. Most of the time she does a pretty good job. (There is a slim chance she learned her cooking skills from all the hours she has dedicated to watching the food network instead of from me.)
KT tends to be a bit more hesitant in the cooking department. The other day she decided she would cook dinner for us. She opened the container of “homemade” gourmet tomato soup that we picked up at the grocery store and carefully poured it into bowls before placing them into the microwave. When I recommended she add a little something more to the meal, she panicked. So, I helped her out by suggesting grilled cheese sandwiches. She panicked again. So, much to my surprise I had to show her how to make them.
We got out our stove top grill and started heating it up. I got her started with using a cooking spray on the bread (not so much to go low-fat/low-cal, but because it’s soooo much easier!) then placed the bread and cheese on the grill and left the kitchen. After a few minutes I heard KT’s panicked voice telling me that those things were starting to get really dark. While I was trying to figure out what the heck she was talking about, Mimi was calmly telling her big sister to simply grab a spatula and flip the sandwiches over. –A concept KT couldn’t quite grasp. By the time I got back to the kitchen, the sandwiches were ruined and we had to start again. KT was upset that she didn’t do it right, and I was dumbfounded that I had completely forgotten that I was cooking…at least I didn’t melt the pan this time.
All I have to say is that it’s a good thing we have Mimi to keep us from starving. When she grows up and moves away(in about 20 years) well…I guess there's always frozen dinners and the microwave!