It's that time of year again. My annual foray into cooking. I manage, much to the delight of my family, not to cook 360 days of the year. I will occasionally fix soup. To say that cooking is so not my forte is an understatement. They learned this early on and normally they let me off the hook.
But they put their collective feet down at Thanksgiving. "You will cook." they demand. And not only am I forced to cook but I have to fix the dishes that have become a tradition in their lives. Nevermind that the dishes are those that their 'born to cook southern Grandmother' makes ... and that I am the daughter of a transplanted yankee, who's idea of a tasty dinner was to toss a chicken in a pan, turn on the oven, open a box of frozen peas into boiling water and call it tasty... Bless her heart.
Nope. It doesn't matter that I did not descend from a great cooking family. Their father did, and therefore they got recipes for me from their southern Grandmother.
Recipes? Oh please. The woman never wrote, much less read a recipe in her life. She cooks by sight and sound. "You know those sweet potatoes just don't sound right, " she said one year. They sounded fine to me, mute.... but then I never had a close rapport with veggies, so what did I know. Over the years I've used the same recipes and added my own touches when I could. Some instructions that originally read "add brown sugar til they look right," have been replaced by the instructions "add 2 cups." It's helped. Trust me.
This year not only will I have to struggle through the old southern recipes again for the kids, but my sister and her family of 4 will be having Thanksgiving dinner with us too. That means double everything. Hmmm, I wonder... if I double the amounts listed on the recipes will the sweet potatoes talk louder? Or better yet, maybe they'll talk and give me hints on how to make the dressing.
So yes, I will cook again this year as ordered and heaven help any of them that don't sit down at the dinner table, fill their plates, eat til they fall out of their chairs, and then climb back up and ask for more.
Thanksgiving is in 2 days. I guess I should buy a turkey or two soon.
My family is so gonna owe me.
6 comments:
I'm so glad I got out of cooking this year. I am totally not in to it. Sooo tired lately.
Well, I'd come help, but Bonnie might object. She doesn't want to have to do it all by herself.
Bon & Mal
I come from a line of those southern cooks who didn't write anything down and did everything by touch, taste, sound and smell. Unfortunately, we're all a short tempered lot, and that meant I bailed on the kitchen to bail on the fights. Instead of having my birthright of cooking well handed to me, I had to teach myself and try to get the old verbal recipes into some comprehensible format. T'aint easy, but it has been worth my while. My guests love my cooking, but the family thinks I suck. So I get to make a good impression on those who don't know better, and the family knows if they don't like it to get the peanut butter.
I wish you a wonderful thanksgiving my friend. judi
Great story. Loved it.
Hey, When you are cookin' the fudge, don't forget to boil it until it "frog eyes" then you will know it's time to add the vanilla and butter. ANNE
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