Friday, December 10, 2010

I may have done something slightly crazy

I've become online buddies with  Elizabeth the Amazing.  Her hysterical blog chronicles her cessation of recreational shopping for one year and working her way through a list of challenges she calls her Monday Dares. Last weeks dare was to learn to cook!  And she has a 10 year old daughter! Well, that's not gonna fly! God knows what that poor child has been living on, but having read Elizabeth's post, I realized  Something Must Be Done. I immediately commented to the effect she should get her butt to my house for some cooking lessons. Then I sent her an easy recipe and again told her to get her butt to my house for some cooking lessons. I took a while, but I finally convinced the dear thing I was serious.

Why, I hear you ask, would I invite a complete stranger to my home? Because she can't cook!!! I'm not certain if I can explain how this notion horrifies me, but I'm gonna take a shot.

In high school, I'd come home, have a swim, not do my homework, and lie around reading sci-fi novels. My mom would arrive home after work, tired and we'd try to throw something together for dinner. My mother, bless her, was an awful cook; I remember eating a box of Stove Top Stuffing for dinner one night. The result: I was constantly hungry and terribly skinny.

The second part is my time in San Francisco. My roomie was one of the only people I know who grew up eating, and continued to eat, a decent diet. Fruit, veggies, salad, fish, whole grains; the whole shebang. The only fish I ever had as a kid came in a can labeled "Starkist" and I had never eaten a fresh green bean in my life. Cooking with Clay was a revelation. The result: I became a darn good cook.

The final piece of the puzzle is having kids. When I joined the Clark Clan, Miles, Kayla and Cam were eating a lot of boxed mac-n-cheese and chicken nuggets. Well, that came to screeching halt. I became a stay-at-home-mom and a cookin' fool. I baked bread, made dinner every night,  planted a kitchen garden, and attempted to instill some table manners. The result: I became a Food Nazi. Nutrition became  my raison d'être be continued.....

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