Back in grade school I was asked what I was thankful for. Being young and well honest, I said "Jerry's Deli and take-out". Jerry's Deli was a restaurant that delivered to my house growing up often and well take-out, yea thats pretty to the point. Growing up was microwaved dinners, take-out and Jerry's Deli. No home cooked meals, unless we were at someone's house for dinner.
Here's the thing, in twenty-somthing years, my parents have never cooked for me. It wasn't because we didn't have money, or because they were to busy. No. It's because my mom and dad couldn't cook if their lives depended on it. They know it, family knows it. Everyone pretty much knows that if it's a pot luck, mom would bring a frozen yogurt pie and her 'homemade Cesar salad'. My dad's cooking was pasta, sometimes burnt but still edible.
Earlier this month my mom came to visit for a week. The week that when my mom was here, my son lived on turkey sandwiches, string cheese and pretzels. (Giving a toddler pretzels is probably one of the grossest, messiest foods). Of course my mom felt like super grandma, taking care of her precious grandson she barely sees. While feeding him one of his gourmet turkey sandwich meals, she makes the comment of the century. "This is more than I cooked for you in 27 years". Yep, even she knew she didn't cook, and sucked at it.
Besides the fun background, I am able to find my way around the kitchen. Am I good at it? That's questionable.
Sure, when I first got married, I tried to be super wife. Complete with cooking home made egg rolls, and set our kitchen on fire. Ended up in the ER, then driving to the opposite side of Georgia for surgery on my hand and side. But I tried. Sure it was an awful way to start our marriage, not even 3 months into it. We got married in December of 2009, this was February. I'm pretty sure my ex-husband was horrified of what he just married.
It took months for me to feel safe in the kitchen. Eventually I sucked it up and started easy (microwave and oven). A few years later, divorce and a kid. I figured it's time to learn.
Yes, I don't eat meat anymore. I also have to figure out toddler friendly foods for a picky eater, with insane allergies to food. But it's doable.
I have my handy dandy cook books, and a toddler willing to accept his mom is not a chef.
We aren't starving. Yes, the fire alarm goes off daily (No this is not a joke). And Yes, it's sometimes burnt or under cooked. But I try, and we are fed.
I am thankful. I am thankful I am willing to try. I'm thankful I don't have my moms 'wonderful' cooking skills. I'm thankful that I figured out how to grow up, figure out allergy friendly, low fat foods for us. I'm thankful for nap time to prep foods and meal plan.
All in all. I'm thankful for cooking. It keeps me sane.
Who would of thought. After the history I've had with cooking, that it would be one of the most important aspects of my life.
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