In the Kitchen
HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS!!! Thanks for all you've given to and done for us who enjoy participating. Sorry I have missed posting the last 2 weeks scribblings. Between major computer problems, followed by our annual hiking spring trip away from any computer access, I wasn't able to get the prompts and/or write them in the posting window. Hope I am back in the groove now.
I am not much of a cook--don't do it very well, don't much like to do it. Lived most of my married life without doing much of it at all. That was quite easy since JR and I worked different "shifts" almost all of our working, married life. As a teacher I always worked days with weekends off. As a dispatcher for the police, then an ambulance company, then involved in direct sales, then for the postal distribution facility, he worked first rotating shifts then consistent ones determined by who had enough more seniority to outbid him for the most desirable ones. Much of our working, married life, we were fortunate enough to have Friday night and all day Saturday together; but the rest of the entire week, I ate dinner alone then graded papers. I hardly ever cooked for just myself; he didn't get home even close to a meal time, so he ate at work. And on our 2 nights together, I was darned if I was going to slave in the kitchen an hour plus before and after dinner so we could sit together for less than 40 minutes and enjoy what I had prepared; and that was if there was nothing on TV either of us wanted to watch.
One of my great regrets is that I raised a daughter who feels about the same as I do about cooking and, I say with some considerable shame and embarrassment, who has less skill at it, I believe, than I do. At least my mother, who was a home-ec major in college, did cook at home all my life and saw to it that I learned how, at least simplistically, and that I actually did the cooking sometimes. Occasionally, I would cook for my daughter and me, when JR was at work, but very, very seldom. The world of microwaves and quality, low cal, frozen dinners gave us each the divergent meals we preferred, with much less work; and, truly, with less food wasted or thrown out.
But the topic for this week is "in the kitchen" and, although, my own kitchen is not a favorite place or room; even I must admit that I believe the kitchen to be the heart of the home. Kitchens are warm! Kitchens are warm literally when something is baking or cooking, and the smells are enticing and yummy. When you want them to be cool---air conditioning and lemonade weather--- they are still warm in their enveloping welcomingness. Many of my happiest memories throughout my life are set in a kitchen. It seems when families and friends gather, eventually the largest number crowd into the kitchen, whether it is just to talk or to drink (tea, coffee, soft drinks, or even hard drinks) and talk, or to work together preparing food or cleaning up after eating. Warm fellowship and laughter emanate from kitchens.
I am not much of a cook--don't do it very well, don't much like to do it. Lived most of my married life without doing much of it at all. That was quite easy since JR and I worked different "shifts" almost all of our working, married life. As a teacher I always worked days with weekends off. As a dispatcher for the police, then an ambulance company, then involved in direct sales, then for the postal distribution facility, he worked first rotating shifts then consistent ones determined by who had enough more seniority to outbid him for the most desirable ones. Much of our working, married life, we were fortunate enough to have Friday night and all day Saturday together; but the rest of the entire week, I ate dinner alone then graded papers. I hardly ever cooked for just myself; he didn't get home even close to a meal time, so he ate at work. And on our 2 nights together, I was darned if I was going to slave in the kitchen an hour plus before and after dinner so we could sit together for less than 40 minutes and enjoy what I had prepared; and that was if there was nothing on TV either of us wanted to watch.
One of my great regrets is that I raised a daughter who feels about the same as I do about cooking and, I say with some considerable shame and embarrassment, who has less skill at it, I believe, than I do. At least my mother, who was a home-ec major in college, did cook at home all my life and saw to it that I learned how, at least simplistically, and that I actually did the cooking sometimes. Occasionally, I would cook for my daughter and me, when JR was at work, but very, very seldom. The world of microwaves and quality, low cal, frozen dinners gave us each the divergent meals we preferred, with much less work; and, truly, with less food wasted or thrown out.
But the topic for this week is "in the kitchen" and, although, my own kitchen is not a favorite place or room; even I must admit that I believe the kitchen to be the heart of the home. Kitchens are warm! Kitchens are warm literally when something is baking or cooking, and the smells are enticing and yummy. When you want them to be cool---air conditioning and lemonade weather--- they are still warm in their enveloping welcomingness. Many of my happiest memories throughout my life are set in a kitchen. It seems when families and friends gather, eventually the largest number crowd into the kitchen, whether it is just to talk or to drink (tea, coffee, soft drinks, or even hard drinks) and talk, or to work together preparing food or cleaning up after eating. Warm fellowship and laughter emanate from kitchens.
posted by sundaycynce at 7:31 PM
5 Comments:
Very honest post. I made somewhat similar points in my post. But I do love cooking and I love my kitchen too.
gautami
Cook up a tale
It can be so much easier in our fast-paced world to go with the pre-packaged meals - and I admit I've done a fair share of that as well - and I probably would have done even more of it, if I'd been in the circumstances you described.
But as I'm reading everyone's memories of the kitchen, triggering my own happy memories - it does make me long to return to those good old days of home-cooked meals and long discussions around the table - not just on Sundays and holidays, but everyday - even if they were more labor-intensive for the cook...
Some days I wish I didn't know how to cook. I love to cook on the weekends. I enjoyed reading this post.
Your greatest regret is that your daughter feels the same as you do about cooking?? LOL! Dont worry about it. I'm sure she'll do just fine :)
Thanks for visiting my page and entering those kind comments :)
I wonder. Does the skill of the cook in the kitchen signify a greater comment on our world at large? For ex. so many of us agree that we're not great cooks, but that our moms were and our moms will agree that their moms were even better (me included!!!). SO, are we all humble or is our lack of skill a testimony to our fast-paced lives where there's no point in slaving away for no one to enjoy? Sigh. On another note: Have you tried the Stouffer's frozen dinners? They're one of the better brands & I just read (in my sister-in-law's cooking mag) that their lasagna is supposed to be the best of the frozen line of lasagnas. :-)
Post a Comment
<< Home