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 |   Blog Challenge And Other Tidbits |
| An opinion or two...or three or four... |
PROMPT May 4th Describe your cooking or baking ability. What was the last thing you cooked/baked that you were proud of? Are you a recipe-follower or freestyler? "And what can you cook?" That's a question my mom asked. A lot. She felt that all of us should know how to cook. Not just to put a meal on the table, but also for authority, confidence, and satisfaction. Wise woman, my mom was. She asked each of us in turn at certain times in our lives - usually marriage. It was always the same question. And if she didn't like what we said she would set a date to drag us into the kitchen for some serious education. "Now don't argue with me. This is important." She always said that too. Apparently some of us didn't want to learn to cook. When my brother, Jim, returned from Viet Nam, he decided to leave the family nest and rent his own apartment. When he made this announcement my mom said, "And what can you cook?" Jim thought for a moment and said, "Soup. I can cook soup. With noodles and potatoes. I can also make sausage." He looked to my mom for approval. She squinted her eyes and peered at him. She seemed to be tossing something around in her mind. But finally she said, "Good. If you can make soup then you'll be fine." And off my brother went to make his own life. She did this same thing to all of us. Not long before my sister's wedding mom pulled her aside. "And what can you cook?" she said as she peered into my sister's face. "Well, I can cook soup. Chicken soup. With noodles. And potatoes on the side. I can fry chicken and I can make macaroni salad." My sister, Judy, looked expectantly at our mom. "Fine," she said. "You won't starve and neither will your husband. Or your children." And off my sister went to to make her own life. Next was my brother, Marty. His fiance, Sharon, came to dinner one night. "And what can you cook?" mom asked politely. "Well," Sharon said, "I can cook spaghetti." We all waited for more. But none was coming. Sharon could only cook spaghetti. Mom took a deep breath and then pronounced, "This Saturday you'll come to my kitchen. I'll teach you to make soup. And Marty, you'll come too. This is important. You need to know this." And so the two went. They learned to make soup. And then Marty left to make a life of his own. Mike? Well, Mike could really cook. He worked in the kitchen at college. He worked in Europe at a resort. He was a good student and learned well. Mike was the only one of us that could almost, and I say almost, cook as well as our mom. But she asked anyway. "And what can you cook?" Mike said, "Well, I can cook soup. Chicken with noodles and potatoes on the side. I can cook stew. I can fry chicken. I can cook a steak in a pan and baste it with butter. I can make orzo and rice, and I can bake bread. I can make omelettes and crepes and trifles and cakes. I can make pie crust. I can make sausage. I can make..." "Enough!" my mom said. "You will be fine. Now teach your bride how to cook." My brother John was next. "And what can you cook?" John was quick to answer. "I can cook soup. Beef AND chicken. With noodles. And potatoes on the side. I can make sausage. I can cook bear. And rabbit. And venison. And I can fry potatoes with onion and garlic and a little hot sauce." Mom was somewhat impressed. She had no idea how to cook bear or rabbit or venison. And then she said, "Okay, that's good. How about your wife? What does she cook?" John looked a little embarrassed. "Well...," he stammered, "I'm not exactly sure." "What?" mom asked, surprised. "Bring her here on Saturday. I"ll teach her to make soup. Now don't argue with me. This is important." And just like that, John's new wife came to learn how to make soup. Apparently mom didn't trust John as much as Mike. And me? Well, that's simple. I waited for my question. "And what can you cook?" Ah, I knew right away what to say. "Well, I can cook soup. Chicken soup with noodles. And potatoes on the side. I can cook stew and I can make cabbage rolls. I can make cookies and cake. I hate pie, so please don't ask me to make pie. Oh! I can make pot roast and potato salad and macaroni salad. I can grill corn and I can grill burgers. And by the way, I can also make hamburger with noodles. And eggs. I can cook eggs." Mom smiled at me. But she had one last question. "Did I teach you enough?" I nearly cried. Of course she taught me enough! She poured her heart and soul into her kitchen because she loved her family so much. She gave us her advice and expertise and her love. She taught us to love through food. And one day I realized something. Each of us can make soup. And we make damn good soup. And I knew it was her medicine, because she always said, "Soup cures everything. A cold, the flu, broken bones and a broken heart. Soup cures everything." Yes, it does. Soup cures everything. And I make damn good soup. |
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