You see this beautiful jello?
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| (Here's how you make this). |
My mom did try to teach me how to cook, but I had zero interest in learning how to. Instead of seeing it as something I could enhance my life with, I saw it as another way to keep me tied to the kitchen instead of outside playing with the boys. Watching them play out the kitchen window while I washed dishes was bad enough. I might add that doing dishes was the only chore besides sometimes dusting and vacuuming that was expected of me. My mom even did my laundry for me until I moved out at 21 (my own kids started helping with laundry as little tots). In short, I had moments of indignant spoiled brattery, and some of the effects and residual thinking from those days are still with me.
My stand on the issue has been this:
1. Food does not equal love, and just because I don't cook fabulous meals doesn't mean I don't care about you.
2. Studies have shown that a lack of variety in diet (not including fruits and veges) is not necessarily a bad thing, and people are better able to maintain weight when not always presented with new foods.
3. I am a creative person, but not when it comes to cooking, so deal with it.
So, for years, I have made my standard fare: spaghetti, tacos, beef stew, shrimp parmesan linguine, and a few other meals thrown in there is add a little variety. My list doesn't sound SO bad, except for it never has really changed. Same ol' thing, day after day.
My family has recently began to protest. Some of their points were:
1. The way to a man's heart really is through his stomach (or it is a close second... haha). Please care more.
2. Food is one of the best pleasures of life, and you are the preparer of most the food we eat. Please care more.
3. Variety is an actual human need (not exactly the words used, but it's what I heard). Please care more.
In response, I have kicked it up a notch in the dinner arena. I may not enjoy all the steps it takes to get a meal on the table (Like making out new grocery lists with ingredients I actually have to search for in the store instead of all of my old standbys, paying for stuff that will basically soon be a waste product, finding room for all of that stuff in my cupboards, actually trying to cook something on a hope and a dream that it will taste right, and then cleaning the whole thing up), but I have determined that I need to care more. Maybe food doesn't equal love, but doing all the work to make a nice meal does show that you care a great deal for the recipient to the meal. And I do care a very great deal for my family.
SO, Pinterest has become my best recipe friends, and I am happy to report that we have not had spaghetti even ONCE in the last two weeks.
I even made meatloaf for the first time ever!! It was met with gagging and crying from one of my children (guess which one), but it got a couple of thumbs up too. I still don't think I will be making it again any time soon. It was just not worth the drama.
I made a Ranch Chicken dish that taught me that even if the directions hint that it's okay to use frozen chicken while baking, it will guarantee runny sauce and about an hour longer to cook.
I made chicken enchiladas that, while being declared as a new favorite my one of my children (Guess which one. Hint: it's the same one who gagged at meatloaf), also had about four pounds of cheese and other delicious fatty stuff. It lasted for two nights, which was awesome. The increased risk of heart attack for all of us, however, has made me aware I need to rethink this recipe.
I definitely gained weight during the first month of trying new foods.
The kids have begun to make other culinary requests of me. Both have requested treats for their classrooms this year. At first I was not fazed. Kloe just wanted brownies, so no big deal, right? I carefully made two sheets of brownies, and they turned out beautiful. When I went to cut them into kid size pieces the next morning, I ran into a snag. They were so hard my knife couldn't even make a dent. I had to grind and saw before I could break any bits off. Kloe, being the thrifty chocolate lover that she is, still kept the giant hard-as-rock pieces to gnaw on later. Unfortunately, she put them in giant plastic baggies, the kind that are easy for a 'dog left on her own' to grab and snack on. Those brownies may have been too hard for my knife, but they were no match for Jessy's insatiable hunger for all things forbidden and chocolate.
That same week, I attempted round two of brownies for Kloe's class. Still traumatized by the other brownie incident, I over compensated with extra eggs and oil (not that much though). These brownies also looked fabulous. The next morning, however, the middle of one of the pans was nothing but goo. A spoon was the only thing worth using for that section. I was almost in tears (over brownies!) when Kloe came out of her room and said she wanted to use these gooey brownies anyways. SO, I cut around the goo, put the half baked brownies in a container, and sent her on her way. She later reported that they got all thumbs up. What I learned from this is that 5th graders do not care so much about quality, as long as they are permitted to ingest sugar during school hours.
Derrin was the kid who requested jello. Now, you may be thinking why in the world was I intimidated by the jello request. Mostly, it was from residual scarring left from the brownies incident. SO, I turned to my friend Pinterest, and found the most complicated jello recipe I could find (which still wasn't that complicated because, hello, it's jello). I very carefully followed the instructions (I have finally begun to internalize how important that step really is when dealing with food projects), and voilà! A masterpiece! Of jello!!
Who ever knew life would ever get this exciting? *And I am rolling my eyes, but really, I am pleased with this turn-about*. But, we all eventually have areas in life we need to grow in. Apparently, this was the area that my family voted for me, and that's okay. Now, off to find new recipes.
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