Monday, February 14, 2011
We interrupt our regularly scheduled navel-gazing today to bring you news of wildly unprecendented goings-on in our kitchen last night.
Readers, I have never seen my father cook. I have seen him do some manly flipping of grilled meats very occasionally on a warm summer day but full on prep and assembly of a meal? Salad, main course and desert? I documented it in case no one believes me.
The catalyst for this adventure in gastronomy was a couples-cooking class that he took my mother to last weekend. There in a room full of people, I think it occurred to my father for the first time that cooking could be a competative sport; suddenly it held a whole new appeal for him.
So last night he came home with roses for my mom and groceries for dinner. I sat at the bar with my camera at the ready drinking wine with my mom. We alternately exchanged giggles and looks of horror as my dad crashed around with the pots, stared fixedly at the thermometer in the pan of cream and reached in the direction of hot things without oven mitts. My father bravely faced this new terrain of stovetop, oven door and kitchen sink and he even did the washing-up!
we don't need no stinking matching lids
The result? A pretty tasty dinner and a throughly amused and very touched mum.
Much of what's on my list involves trying something new or returning to something I once loved; my dad's kitchen adventures are a good reminder that it's never too late for either.
Happy Valentines Day!