It pains me to put this in print. I am in earnest, the pain is genuine, very nearly mortal and seems to have a few pangs attached (generally caramel brownie flavor). The news? I am a better cook than most others of my gender.
I know there are those that would believe it otherwise since, of course, they have been denied the generosity of my abundant skills. Master chefs may consult their recipe playbook and they will come away broken in the midst of their culinary failure.
Oh, I am not trying to boast it’s just there is so much misinformation when it comes to fine dining and I would hate for the masses to be mislead simply because someone has a television show and a house band.
My bride was awestruck the first time I prepared a meal. She soundly declared it was the finest food she had ever consumed. In that very tender moment I know I was destined to pass along my skill to our progeny.
“Who knew you could do that with Rice-A-Roni and eggs,” my bride declared after that first meal together.
Well it was a fine question. One, in fact, I had never considered before, but in retrospect I would say that it had everything to do with equal measures of creativity and a dash of acute bachelor sensitivities.
I have heard rumblings that the time my wife made me a pot of macaroni and cheese using a pasta box with bugs was some sort of retribution, but my wife still insists it was simply in deference to her admiration for high comedy.
I have tried to teach my wife over the years how to cook and she has developed into something of an expert in cuisine. She, however, insists on using fresh greens and items rarely found in a box. I fear she has not been paying attention to me.
I do find it odd that in the two decades of wedded bliss my bride has never again asked for the Eggs-A-Roni specialty that was such a hit early in our life-long love affair.
I am called upon daily to create either breakfast burritos or bagel breakfast sandwiches. I am also called upon to regularly man the grill and bring back in perfectly seasoned roasted beast to the gleeful chittering of happy children – and I will not be convinced that it is a reaction to Kip Bunyan and the Kelp Posse on television. Frankly I’ve always been of the opinion that chittering can be accomplished without actually looking at an individual.
My daughter had some friends over the other day and decided to make some brownies. I wish I had known for I could have assisted in moist brownies that have the capacity to render the knees useless on all who dare touch brownie to bud. Sadly, my daughter failed to set a timer and she ended up with brownie adobe. I had no idea we had a brownie kiln. We passed the bricks to a poor mouse family down the street – someone should get some use out of it and they’ve made a fine condominium. My wife says my daughter has my skills – she’s such an encouragement to me.
The joys of cooking are not lost on those who know me. I happy pass along my expertise when called upon to do so. Oft times you can hear me say pithy culinary remarks like, “No really, it’s just macaroni and ketchup” or “You can get your pizza to look like that too. Just leave it in an extra 30 minutes” or the ever popular, “What do you mean you’ve never had homemade potato chips? Eat quick they’re dripping.”
You know I’m so happy God has blessed me with the ability to not only cook, but teach others the skills needed to ‘rustle grub’.
Honestly it reminds me of a Bible study I once led, just shake together a bag of grace and biblical misunderstanding and – poof – such happy Christians. They like the taste AND it’s less filling.
So, when are you coming over for supper?
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