When it’s my turn to bake, or cook either for a cookout, family meal, pot luck at church or anything related to fixing food or any kind of meal, my skin begins to crawl.
I was never exposed to anything kitchen-wise when I was a young person, because our grandmother owned the kitchen in its totality. No one could come near her when she was putting together meals for the family, or even ask how she was fixing whatever she had in her hand. I remember my mother trying to help prepare some of our meals, and grandmother sulking for days with words under her breath such as: “I guess you don’t need me here, I’m only a burden to the family; I should just curl up and die.” My mother then would relent and whatever she was doing in the kitchen was left and ask grandmother to take over once again. Grandmother beamed at the idea no one would survive without her; she was one of a kind, and I have a daughter to prove it. Cooking in my family skipped a generation, mine.
All our children are SUPERB in the kitchen; I believe either because I left them to learn for themselves, or because grumpy taught them all how to cut up vegetables, salt the soup or whatever is needed to fill those empty stomachs. Grumpy can cook the best soups with whatever is in the pantry and it will be the best meal you ever had. On the contrary, when I pretend to cook, something is always missing… salt, pepper, spices, whatever. Sometimes the meal is even raw.
My idea of cooking is to get some bread, no matter what kind, slather the mayonnaise on both sides, place some cold cuts on the slathered mayonnaise, cut up some lettuce, tomatoes and find some relish to complete the delicious sandwich. I also know how to bake a pineapple Au-gratin, mainly because the recipe is simple. This is the extent of my culinary endeavors.
Lately, I noticed in facebook, many people post recipes of their masterpieces; I would copy them and try the simpler ones. After all, I can gather the ingredients, I know how to use the mixer, the spoons, the measuring cups and it doesn’t look complicated at all. However, after several efforts I never realized all the recipes are written in a different language altogether. When the recipe calls for a pinch of this or that, or strange utensils are expected to be used, or a special pan or device I never heard of is necessary to complete the recipe, I’m completely lost.
My bucket list now includes culinary school, how to read recipes, what to use in case something is missing in my pantry and learn all the names of the different utensils available in any kitchen. But, thinking about it makes me so tense, I don’t want to involve myself in another adventure just right now. After all, I eat to live, contrary to some people in my household, who live to eat.