I pretend my kitchen is a restaurant called the Fat Chihuahua,as in, Hi, welcome to the Fat Chihuahua, enjoy your complimentary bowl of bacon, your server will be with you shortly. Middle age has done wonders for my cooking ability, I now have the patience to actually knead bread, (and like it) and am not as intimidated to try new things, so what, new recipe sucks, one meal one day, nothing a grilled cheese band aid can't fix. And you get some great new expanding meals along the way.
My favorite things to cook
Gram's soup, I can't make it see it or smell it without hearing her potato peeler flying, wondering if I would ever be that effortless, knowing that she was happy doing the work to make me happy, Living without her for 15 years and having her still so very present in the meals that we eat. love lives on through the time and often unsung talents of those that came before us.
My favorite family cooking traditions
Thanksgiving dressing, mom rocks it bread tearing prep starting days before, everyone gathered breathlessly thanksgiving eve, waiting to see if the 60 year old electric roaster will give us yet another year of magic.
My cooking triumphs
Pasties- a northern michigan tradition. When my Dad (a pasty ritualist) said that mine were the best he has ever had. When my husband of 24 years recently said as we were dining out, " I don't know why we go out, I like everything we make better!", and recently a departure for us, we had the turkey triumph, trying and loving a brined turkey serving it alongside a deep fried turkey. Learning to cook entire meals on the grill.
My cooking tragedies
strawberry rubber frisbee- I mean cake, I mean exactly what the heck did I do to that cake that made it into a substance that isn't found in the cooking world. Ah yes let us also visualize using my sons last beloved strawberry's to make flubber. And how bout that cumin laced spanish rice that I haven't followed a recipe for in 20 yrs and can make it blinfolded, served it at a company dinner without tasting it, and wished I had when I crunched into halfdone rice that everyone had already loaded their plates with. Good times, good times.