Ron likes
to experiment in cooking which makes sense. He was a chemist. We usually just
eat the results. I try to get him to follow tried and true recipes when he
wants to make something new and/or different/weird.
I asked “Why
are you using sweet potatoes in the shepherd’s pie?”
He answered,
“That’s what we have, but I could add cheese.”
I said, “No,
I don’t think cheese would help”; even though I love cheese (I think I was possibly
a mouse in another life). You can’t add cheese to everything.
So I tried
the sweet potato shepherd’s pie and it wasn’t that bad. Actually, it was pretty tasty, and he had put
cheddar cheese on the top of the sweet potato part (yum).
When we
were first married Ron decided to put red wine in macaroni and cheese. That, I couldn’t even eat. It was really a mistake. Even Ron agreed.
Now let’s
talk about the raspberry soup. Ron doesn’t
really understand about making pie filling.
My mom taught me from probably Betty Crocker’s cookbook, how to make pie
filling with fresh fruits. Unlike Ron,
Betty Crocker and I use measurements in cooking. Ron decided to just “wing it”. So even though he did add starch and sugar to
the raspberries with not much water, he didn’t let this mixture boil down
enough to thicken. He lacks patience
which, I have found very useful in cooking.
So he puts this “soup” into a baking dish and adds ingredients he thinks
will make it into a cobbler.
Even after
we cooled this dessert in the refrigerator after baking it, it didn’t
thoroughly gel. I wasn’t that
surprised. It did however, taste pretty
good especially with vanilla ice cream.
Ron also
still thinks he is cooking for five or more people. So we will be having leftovers for days and
days. Sometimes we share his cooking
with neighbors, but these dishes were just too strange to explain and
share. If Elizabeth comes over she will
try anything we cook. She is the main
cook for her houseful full of kids, and gets pretty tired of making breakfast, lunch
and dinner. She looks in our
refrigerator and ask me “how old is this?” before she tries it.
Don’t get
me wrong. I love it that Ron shops and cooks. I just wish he would leave some of the baking
to me and Betty Crocker, but again he is not good at waiting for me to make
something.
Ron:
In my defense, I am getting better at measuring, especially since I have had to for our cook book. I will admit to a certain joy in winging it, and am probably successful 9 out of 10 times. However, they only remember the 10nth. And the raspberry cobbler was delicious, and shared with neighbors, after another bout in the oven at lower temperature to drive off moisture. It thickened very nicely. Thank you very much!
I have just a quick note about marriage. You have to learn how to work out differences. However, sometimes those differences are what make your marriage fun. Crystal and I, over the years, have spent more time talking about and laughing about my experiments than a reasonable person would guess. It has never been a serious cause of contention. It’s what I call, adding flavor to our marriage. Pun!
I am
currently working on a cookbook focused on cooking for family. In addition to
preserving our favorite family recipes, it will have family stories along with
a number of ‘common sense’ short cuts, money saving principles, and tips for
the main family meal preparer. This is a role which I have fulfilled for a
number of years for our family.
As
explained in the book, my primary inspiration came from my mom. For years she,
as most housewives of the fifties through seventies, was among her many roles,
the family cook. Sadly, I never showed her the proper appreciation she so
richly deserved. It wasn’t until I left for college that I realized many things
which should have been obvious. First, and I really feel stupid about this, mom
had a German accent. It was fairly strong, but I had never really noticed until
I left and returned some four or five weeks later. Second, mom was an unusually
good cook. Beyond that, she was our family chef. As I explained to Lisa
(youngest daughter) recently, the difference between a good cook and a chef is
that a good cook can flawlessly follow a recipe; a chef can take whatever they
are given and create a recipe. Mom could do either. I remember actually being
embarrassed when she was disappointed at what a restaurant passed as salad
dressing, she requested vinegar and oil. With just those two ingredients, along
with sugar, salt, and pepper, she made a better dressing than the chef. It
occasionally took dad and me to restrain her from actually going into a
restaurant kitchen when she was given subpar food. She had to settle for just embarrassing
a waiter or two.
As with her
accent, going away to college helped me appreciate her skills in the kitchen.
Cafeteria food will do that. Occasionally, I would bring friends home or
neighbors would visit, and mom would cook. They would talk about their meal for
weeks. When I finally realized that mom wouldn’t always be there to cook for me,
I knew I needed to learn. She not only helped me begin my learning process, but
inspired me with her story.
Born in
Germany in 1924, she received her initial cooking instructions just before WW2
began. In those days, it was part of the standard curriculum for young German
girls. I’m sure her lessons began with lighting the wood stove. The war years
proved almost too stressful for impoverished families, such as hers. Making
meals from scraps, government handouts, and the occasional rabbit or cheaper
cuts of meat made chefs (by my definition) of many. Little did Mimi (mom) know
that, those rough skills would someday lead to her post war job, cooking for
American Counter Intelligence officers stationed in the nearby village. The man
in charge asked whether she could cook a traditional German duck dinner. Her
mom came over to help with that first meal. The man in charge, Siegfried
Meinstein, was very impressed with the dinner, as he was with its young preparer.
Several years later, mom and dad were married. Dad gained a lot of weight those
first few years. I can’t blame him.
Now that I
am well on my way to recreating and preserving many favorite dishes, I often
think of mom. I never appreciated the skill or effort it took to make some of
those meals. I never understood the physical and mental effort needed to feed a
family day after day. I also never knew the enjoyment of watching those you
love gathered together at a meal of your creation.
While I do
regret not being more grateful for all mom did when I was young, I think she
got the message. Over the years, I cooked many meals for her and dad. She
always acted like those meals were something special. In reality, they were
just a reflection of her love.
Similarly,
with this book, I am passing something on to our girls. Their excitement about
this project hasn’t been lost on me. Every now and then one of them will ask to
make sure I haven’t forgotten any of their favorites. Occasionally, they will
suggest dishes I don’t even remember making. I will just do my best to recreate
those. After all, that’s what family is about, passing on the love.
Crystal’s Corner
I am glad
that Ron wrote this blog about cooking and his cookbook. My mom taught me how to cook when I was very
young. It was wise of her to do this
because when she became very ill, I could make many dishes. My mom was a wonderful baker and some of her recipes
will be included in the cookbook. It was
very interesting when Ron and I met at Bradley University and he told me he
could cook. I was thinking hot dogs,
toasted cheese sandwiches, and maybe some canned soup, items my brother could
make. He made a beautiful delicious dinner
for me in his apartment, and I was stunned.
He made beef scaloppini, a broccoli casserole, and a real salad. Grandma Carlson had always told me to marry a
man who can cook. She didn’t like
cooking and knew how much work went into the day to day meal preparations. What was also great about Ron being able and
interested in cooking, was that we could share recipes and techniques. My mom loved Ron’s cooking and he taught her
some of his recipes and techniques also.
Mom would get recipes from neighbors, friends, magazines and her
homemaker group and try them out on us.
Some of them were pretty good. She also encouraged me to be creative
with my cooking and baking. Ron also
attended some classes at a French Restaurant while we lived in Chicago. He can
make some delicious onion soup that we all love.
As a stay
at home mom, I was the main cook at our house for a long time. Ron worked long
hours and went to school at night, early in our marriage. He did cook on weekends and sometimes during
the week. The girls don’t remember those
years very well, but I do. After I was
diagnosed with breast cancer, my cooking slowed way down. Fortunately, Ron stepped up and also
Elizabeth at 13, could do some cooking.
Michelle and Elizabeth both learned to bake when they were young. I had them helping me when they were 3 and 4
years old. As they got older the girls
got use to Ron’s dishes and weren’t as thrilled with my spinach casserole or
baked chicken with rice dinners. Many
times, I would start dinner before Ron came home and he would finish making it
adding the spices to the main dish, and a salad dressing or sauce to a salad or
vegetables. It was almost like a dance
with Ron and me in the kitchen, and sometimes Elizabeth or Michelle helping
too.
I was glad I listened to Grandma Carlson. Not only did I end up with an Eagle Scout, experienced traveler and handyman, but also a wonderful chef. Before life with Ron, I got lost a lot, fought with the vacuum cleaner, and cooked many meals for our family. Together, we are more creative, stronger and have a lot more fun.