It wasn't her fault. The pic to the left pretty much sums up my
childhood thoughts about cooking. Mom tried to get me interested in the kitchen. Cooking, baking and a love of creating a meal that was fit for a holiday, a Sunday morning for family, a Saturday afternoon with friends...
I just would have none of it. Women's Work. Blllacccchhhh!!!! And I would run outside and into the woods with my dog and be gone from such tedious things. Now, usually it was with a lunch full of good stuff that came from those tedious things but...meeehhhhhhh....I didn't make that connection.
So, let us get this out of the way right now. I hate to cook. I mean I HATE to cook. It isn't that I don't like good food. Or good for you food. It is just that I despise fixing it. I have better things to do. And I can live off of cereal. Or even fruit and veggies. I don't need to cook to eat.
So, why would I take a cooking class? Well, because it was for Sam. It was a gift and part of the gift was that we would cook together. And so, last week we went to our first cooking class and got all down into the art
of making pita bread, gyros, risotto, hummus…all from scratch. And it was fun! And yummy. And we left talking about cooking together (but only because Sam now owes me Sushi Class).
What I learned? Cooking is about following instruction and practice. Cooking can be a love affair of sorts – the kind of thing you spend an afternoon with and when you are done you have created something. It can be fun. You can drink wine while you are doing it. Always a plus that.
On the other hand you are also left with a huge mess of dirty dishes and could have been doing other things like, I dunno, riding a horse or going to the movies or reading or sleeping or….
So, I am still not sold on cooking. But, I doubt I will ever buy pre-made hummus again.