“Dear Lord, we thank you for this meal and we ask you to bless it, especially tonight because dad cooked it. Amen.”
It’s okay, maybe I’m not as good a cook as my wife. However, you have to understand that in the old days, when I was single, there really wasn’t much demand for me to cook.
My main foods at the time were cereal, peanut butter, pizza, and burritos. Not all together of course — well maybe in certain combinations — but I usually ate them separately.
Now all of a sudden I’m married with four kids and…
Well, I guess that didn’t exactly happen suddenly, but…
Anyway, my wife and I work, but since I work at home, I am often the one who cooks.
I had to learn a bit at first. I remember my wife used to come into the kitchen while I was cooking and say, “It smells like you’ve charred the food.”
About the first ten times this happened, I just ignored her. Eventually, though, I got curious.
“What do you mean ‘scorching’?” I asked.
“Scorching is when the food at the bottom of the pan sticks together and burns until it’s crisp and inedible,” he replied coldly. It seemed to me that she was hinting that it was also something bad.
“It makes the whole pot taste burnt,” she continued with a disgusted look on her face. To which I replied, “What? Can you avoid that?”
After that, I started taking some lessons from her on how to cook. He taught me how to stir food while it’s in the pot, how to not cook everything over high heat, how to grease pans before putting food in them, how to skim the pan when macaroni starts to boil, and other advanced techniques. Eventually, I started to get pretty good at a few things, so I decided to try something a little more complicated.
I tried to make bread.
Now, I’m very good at making cookies. In fact, they are one of my specialties, but they are not as complicated as making bread.
First, there was this whole idea of ”kneading” bread. My wife came up to me just after she’d broken my second wooden spoon as she tried to add more flour to an already thick dough.
“No no no!” she yelled, obviously distraught over the death of the spoon. “You’re supposed to KNEAD bread!”
“Of course I NEED the bread!” I replied. “Why do you think I’m doing it?”
However, it’s the idea of letting it “rise” that has proven the hardest for me to master. You wouldn’t think it would be that hard. I mean, all it takes is just letting the dough sit on its own for a while. And in fact, that’s not really the problem. It’s going back in time later that I find so challenging.
The last time I tried to make bread, I set it aside to let it rise, just like it was supposed to, and went about my business.
Some time later, I was walking through the kitchen when I noticed this giant globe sitting in a loaf pan with a towel thrown over it.
“What have the children done now?” I thought to myself as she picked up the towel. “Oh yeah! I’m making bread today,” I concluded.
I hadn’t realized the recipe was called “Balloon Bread” but apparently that was it. So, I threw it in the oven and proceeded to cook it. A giant loaf of bread to feed all my hungry children for a few days was fine with me.
Some time later, I was walking through the kitchen past the oven when I thought, “Why is it so hot in here? What have the kids been playing with now?”
“Oh yes! I’m cooking bread today!” I corrected myself.
Surprisingly it wasn’t burnt, too bad anyway. You see, from time to time I show up more or less at the right time. In the end, however, I was not very impressed with the Globo Bread recipe. To be honest it tasted more like sour air than bread. I don’t really remember filling it with carbon dioxide myself, but I would use that was what was in there. Hmmm, carbonated bread. What will they think next?
One day, however, I decided to put a lot of effort into my bread. I worked hard, set timers to remember what I was doing and everything. Also, I scrapped the recipe for Carbonated Balloon Bread and opted for one from another cookbook.
In the end, I got what I thought was a pretty decent product. It was normal size, not burnt, and I was even able to cut it with a regular bread knife instead of a hacksaw this time.
So, I asked my kids for their opinion, after convincing them to eat it with the promise of ice cream afterwards, of course. On a scale of one to ten, they gave me a resounding two.
Since then I have been back to making cookies.
Then there are the cookies. I love making cookies. I’m also pretty good at making cookies. At least, I used to be. That was before my kids decided they wanted to learn how to make cookies too. (This may have had something to do with the fact that only the cook, being me, was allowed to eat any of the cookie dough.)
Sure, it’s fun that my kids “help” me make cookies. It’s just, well, with an average of 2-3 helpers, sometimes I get a little confused.
“Okay kids, we’re making a double batch of cookies so there’s enough for everyone. Now the recipe says we need 2 cups of flour, so double that’s…”
“Can I put the flour in?”
“No, I want to put the flour.”
“Dad already said he could help you!”
“Well, I can help you too!”
“Wait a minute, both of you can help. One of you gets the flour and the other gets the sugar.”
“I’ll get the sugar!”
“No, I’ll bring the sugar!”
“We need the flour first actually.”
“I know, I’m getting it.”
“How much flour, dad?”
“Well, let’s see 2 doubled cups is…”
“I’m in it, give me the cup!”
“I went and got it! You wanted to make the sugar.”
“Okay, but I’m going to lay the eggs.”
“How much flour, dad?”
“…3 cups. Now bring me two eggs and a cup of sugar.”
“I have the eggs.”
“You can’t break them either. You’ll get shells on the cookies.”
“No, I won’t. How many eggs, dad?”
“I said a cup. Now, someone get the baking salt and soda.”
“What kind? Root beer or Sprite?”
“That?”
Anyway, you can see how it works sometimes, but honestly, I USED to be pretty good at making cookies.
Meanwhile, my kids are still growing, so I must be doing something right. Either that or they’re sneaking food out of the warehouse while I’m sleeping.
Oh, but let me tell you about the most amazing product on the market today. It’s one no cook parent should be without.
It’s called a slow cooker, also known as a Crock Pot.
These things are amazing! You can throw whatever you want in them, turn them on, come back anywhere from 6-9 hours later, and it still tastes good!
However, I do not recommend waiting 12 hours to return. If you do, DO NOT stir the bottom of the pot. I know it’s tempting, but after 12 hours it’s best to leave the food in the bottom of the pot for the dishwasher. I know it sounds confusing, but it has something to do with that “scorching” thing again — I think.
However, my wife is the best. She makes everything taste good except the mushrooms, but that’s impossible. Usually, she doesn’t even look at the instructions for anything either. I guess everything is natural with her.
However, there is one area of the kitchen that I am MUCH better at than she is, and that is grease fires. She doesn’t handle them well, especially when they happen inside the frying pan while she’s holding it. I know she tries, but she never knew that throwing, running, and yelling were very effective in such situations.
But then, that’s another story for another time. (Preferably sometime when there is absolutely NO chance of my wife being around to read it.)
