By RaeJean Spencer Hasenoehrl
I
married into a nice German family and was blessed with a mother-in-law who is
caring and understanding. She’s also a great cook. This was definitely a boon
for me, since the culinary gene of my own talented family seemed to skip my
generation. Well, more definitively, the culinary gene skipped me. My sister’s
a great cook. Now I’m not saying that I couldn’t boil water when I became a
wife, but I will admit to a Jell-o fiasco that continues to haunt my dreams.
And I won’t mention the hamburger incident at my college dorm. My husband still
teases me about the fire trucks.
It’s
not that my own mother didn’t try to teach me a few cooking skills. She was
known for her great meals and had a stack of blue ribbons that proved her worth
in the kitchen. It’s just that I wasn’t into cooking. I’m more into power
tools. Or reading books. Or taking walks in the country. Basically, I’m into
anything that doesn’t require a spatula.
That’s
where my mother-in-law stepped in. No, she didn’t teach me how to cook. But she
did make me jealous that the only good meals my husband and I ate were at her
house when we were visiting for vacation.
Through
time and experience, my hatred for kitchenly duties has turned into — dare I
say — a love for cooking. I’m still no expert, but a few years ago I
experienced a revelation of earth-shattering proportions: a blender IS a power tool. I immediately pulled
out my 15-year-old submersible blender (a wedding gift that I never understood)
turned it on, and for the first time in my culinary history, I felt the
awe-inspiring power denoted to home cooks and chefs around the world.
Once I
gave in to this philosophy that cooking a decent meal doesn’t necessarily force
one into a life as a domestic goddess, I realized other magical mysteries about
cooking. For instance, cooking is a science. I know people say that, but Alton
Brown of the Food Network proved it to be true. Tyler Florence helped out, too.
No, I wasn’t watching “Food 911” simply because Tyler’s a hunk. I watched the
show to figure out all my past gastronomic transgressions.
I still
chuckle about the Pyrex baking dish that I blew up during our first
Thanksgiving meal as newlyweds (did you know that Pyrex and direct heat don’t
mix?) and I still haven’t mastered the art of cleaning my work surface while
preparing a meal (hey, my brain can only think in so many directions), but I
can proudly say that meals are indeed edible, if not downright tasty, at our
house. I’ve even ventured into creating my own recipes including my latest
triumph, a German chocolate trifle served with layers of coconut and pecan
icing and cream cheese filling.
I know
I’m not alone in my original apprehension towards the kitchen. And I know I
can’t be the only person to cook a perfectly good roast in an oven that wasn’t
turned on. So if sharing a few of my blunders, some of my quirky revelations,
and a handful of favorite recipes can help another mealtime misfit, then I’m
glad to help.
Check
out my blog, foodstoragemafia.blogspot.com, for a few fun recipes. And
remember, if at first you don’t succeed, try pie again.
