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Monday, May 7, 2012

From Scratch

This Easter I was faced with a unique conundrum. My Dad was working out of town and couldn't get back for the weekend, and I had already committed to hosting the fam over for lunch. A few days before, though, I realized something: It was just going to be me (plus Chad and Emmet), my mom, my sister and my grandmother. I laughed to Tab and Em about this, but they didn't get it. I am guessing you don't either. Here was my situation: NO OTHER WOMEN IN MY FAMILY CAN COOK! Seriously.

My Memaw heads the lineage of non-cookers. She is the most impressive because she somehow managed to do this as a preacher's wife in the fifties?!? Now, in her favor, things being "store bought" were a sure sign of well-to-do back then, so she was able to get away with cooking a chicken and heating up some sides and calling it a day. In fact, she used to get Allison and I store bought birthday cakes to save us from the ones my Dad always made us from scratch. And now, if you go over to her house, she will have all the salad and rotisserie chicken and iced tea from a jug that you could want. And she will make triple sure that you got enough to eat (and other such grandmotherly things), but she sure as hell isn't going to mix ingredients into anything.

Mom, obviously, didn't "Shake N Bake and I helped" in the fifties and sixties, so she just never picked it up. She would make sure I told you that she does make a mean green bean casserole and adds a secret ingredient (sugar) to Jiffy cornbread. A few Christmases ago, we were having some family and friends over for lunch, so my Dad and I had been cooking all morning. Since everything was pretty much managing itself, I went to curl my hair and Dad went to get dressed. About 5 minutes in, my Mom rushes in and says, "Shauna! Daddy asked me to stir the gravy but I think it might be burning!!!! Will you come look?!" This is a true story. I went in to look and it was just slightly simmering - I think she was concerned by the bubbles. I then relieved her of her duties and finished my hair when a more confident captain was at the helm.

Allison can't really be faulted with a gene pool like that, but I somehow managed inherited some cooking skills from Dad's side. Most of her problem, I think, is lack of effort. She and her roommate in college only owned 4 real plates and probably 4 sets of silverware. When she graduated, Dad and I made spaghetti for her and some of her friends the night before graduation. Y'all, I am not lying when I say that people had to eat in shifts so that we could wash the silverware in between. Same thing when it was time for dessert. Allison does have technology on her side, and she is pretty good at following instructions. So when she decided to cook for a boy she was dating, she had her own personal Alton Brown (aka Dad) via Skype to help her through. I am told it turned out well, but I have never seen any proof. She kicks ass at doing the dishes, though, for which I am eternally grateful.

All joking aside, I love that cooking together is me and Dad's "thing". One year for Christmas my gift to him was that I would let him give me cooking lessons. You read that sentence right; all my Dad wanted for Christmas was to spend time with me and to teach me some things. That is the kind of Daddy I have.

Maybe Mom, Memaw and Alli are just more progressive than I am... "We aren't going to be barefoot and slaving away in the kitchen - hell no! But we will mix up some brownies from a box for ya!" I wasn't aware of how weird this way until this Easter. Without my Dad, the meal was all on me. I did buy the ham pre-cooked and picked fairly easy side-dishes - but in all fairness, I didn't realize the meal was all on me until Friday and I was in denial about it until Sunday morning. Yep. I went to the grocery store on the way home from Easter Service.

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