The Kitchen War: My Parents' Cooking and Family Meals
When I was a child, mealtime at home was a mixed bag depending on who was behind the stove. Each parent had their own take on cooking, but did their efforts meet the standards of a chef?
My Father and Breadth
While both my parents were capable of cooking, my father certainly had a knack for it. He could whip up a decent breakfast, a simple sandwich, and even an acceptable lunch. Despite his ability, the meals he prepared were often seen as a last resort. The real culinary battles of my childhood took place in my mother’s domain.
The Culinary Master—My Mother
Oddly enough, my mother, with her almost pure Irish heritage, struggled in the kitchen. Cooking wasn't her forte, although she was able to pull off a couple of remarkable dishes. Her meat loaf was surprisingly delicious, and her chop suey recipe was a hit, but most meals were a bland affair. The highlight of our meals, in my opinion, was when my father opted to grill some t-bone steaks.
Comparison and Reflection
When I entered adulthood and met my future spouse, I noticed a stark contrast in the quality of her mother's cooking. My mother-in-law, who was also of Irish descent but married to a full-blooded Italian, had learned to cook from her mother-in-law. The food was outstanding, and the aromas from her kitchen could practically make you hallucinate. It was a stark reminder of my mother's shortcomings in the kitchen.
My Mother's Attempts and Failures
In contrast to the kitchen battles fought by my father, my mother’s efforts often left much to be desired. She preferred simple, effortless solutions like fast food or frozen pizzas. When she tried to cook something from scratch, the results were often disastrous. Her macaroni and cheese was orange and crumbly, and her meatloaf was too crunchy. Even the soup she made was too close to vomit to consume. She often experimented with a dish she dubbed "noodle loaf," a blend of lasagna and beef stroganoff, but the results were consistently disappointing.
Teamwork Beats Enemies in the Kitchen
Perhaps the most amusing part of these culinary mishaps was the teamwork my step-father and I developed. We had a ritual of disposing of my mother’s awful cooking when she wasn't looking. I would distract her while he took the inedible food out to the garbage outside. Even our pets, a cat and a dog, refused to eat the meals my mother made. Sometimes, the only way to find something edible was to search through the trash for remnants of the food my father prepared.
Conclusion
My childhood was a testament to the wide range of culinary abilities and struggles that parents can face in the kitchen. Whether it was my father’s simple but home-cooked meals or my mother’s memorable failures, these experiences shaped our family's memories and taught us valuable lessons about teamwork and the importance of good food.