It seems I hear a lot of people say, "I can't cook.", or "I don't cook". Silently I think, "Are you proud of that? Your parents really let you down." I'm appalled, and sad. I grew up in the kitchen. It was the best place in the house for a little boy. Mom and Gramma and Sister were there making wonderful things to eat. Dad and Uncle were there dissecting fish and poultry and giving biology lessons. There were knives and fire and interesting machines to play with. And I got to lick the bowl whenever cookies or cakes were made. What could be better for an inquisitive kid? I loved the kitchen.
As i got older it was not just a place to mind me, I became help and was put to work often dressed up in an apron and gloves ten sizes too big for me and standing on a chair, but always learning and eventually being useful. I did get sent away once for shaking my coke bottle and spraying it on gramma's apple pies.
This was the 1950's and 60's. Mom said, "I'm not going to raise useless boys. You will learn to cook, clean, do laundry and iron your own clothes." So we did. And it was fun. What's not fun about playing with dangerous machines and chemicals? And when the work is done you get to eat good food.
By age 16 I was competent enough at things in general to be asked to be the Cooking Merit Badge counselor at Boy Scout camp so off I went for a summer of living in a tent and teaching cooking. We made good apple pies at scout camp.
In college, I met a girl who lived a few houses away. Before long we were cooking and eating together. I made her magical sandwiches. She game me a Betty Crocker cookbook for my twenty second birthday. We fell in love and have been sharing meals together ever since. (ps: our two boys know how to cook )
So you see, you really should learn to cook. It's magical. Good things come from good food. You can't live with out it. These pages will hopefully grow over time into something useful for people who just want to make good simple food. Maybe someday, somebody will want to put into something with volume and weight, a book.
As i got older it was not just a place to mind me, I became help and was put to work often dressed up in an apron and gloves ten sizes too big for me and standing on a chair, but always learning and eventually being useful. I did get sent away once for shaking my coke bottle and spraying it on gramma's apple pies.
This was the 1950's and 60's. Mom said, "I'm not going to raise useless boys. You will learn to cook, clean, do laundry and iron your own clothes." So we did. And it was fun. What's not fun about playing with dangerous machines and chemicals? And when the work is done you get to eat good food.
By age 16 I was competent enough at things in general to be asked to be the Cooking Merit Badge counselor at Boy Scout camp so off I went for a summer of living in a tent and teaching cooking. We made good apple pies at scout camp.
In college, I met a girl who lived a few houses away. Before long we were cooking and eating together. I made her magical sandwiches. She game me a Betty Crocker cookbook for my twenty second birthday. We fell in love and have been sharing meals together ever since. (ps: our two boys know how to cook )
So you see, you really should learn to cook. It's magical. Good things come from good food. You can't live with out it. These pages will hopefully grow over time into something useful for people who just want to make good simple food. Maybe someday, somebody will want to put into something with volume and weight, a book.