re: #369 oaktree

It wasn’t until I was in my 30s and starting to do more cooking from scratch for myself (and discussing cooking with my brother) that the realization came that my mother was not that good of a cook. She had been trained by her mother, did a lot of stuff passably by rote, assembled books of recipes clipped from magazines, etc., but really didn’t do much that was especially good. (Exception: cookies and pies; her family had a friend that was a pro and she was taught to make a good pie crust.)

My father was the more experimental one. He made chili, grilled a lot, and tried different things.

A typical middle-class American upbringing. Spaghetti with sauce from the jar, mashed sweet potatoes with marshmellow creme on top, overcooked beef (unless Dad grilled steaks), and all the boiled vegetables that youngsters hate to eat. No turnips though - my mother had to eat turnips as a child and thus refused to make and serve them as an adult.

I was such a picky kid when it came to food that I was a terrible kid to feed. Now, I admit I’m still picky, but I have no problem eating tofu, lentils, and most of the stuff I refused to eat as a kid.

My husband, while a great cook, often has days when he goes for the easiest solution (he has bad headaches). When he’s up on his game and willing to experiment, though, he’s fantastic.