I really enjoy cooking and baking and no, they are not the same thing. I love food-how it looks, how it smells and definitely how it tastes. I am not one of those poor souls who only views eating as sustenance. No, it is a purely pleasurable sensory experience and cooking is how I care for people around me. I try and stay away from weird foods like pates or terrines, anything that resembles the consistency of jello really, and make an effort to use fresh ingredients when I can. There is a conundrum in my house however, in that whatever I cook goes woefully unappreciated by my kids.
I spent an hour last Monday simmering chicken breast, tomatoes and peppers into a rich filling for chicken enchiladas. When I pulled the dish from the oven, the tops of the tortillas were practically glistening with a blanket of bubbly cheese, filling the kitchen with a heavenly scent. The boys wandered downstairs asking what was for dinner and when they saw my masterpiece of suppertime, their praise was…..deafening in it’s silence. “Um, not in the mood for Mexican tonight mom, sorry” my oldest mumbled as he dug through the fridge for who knows what. “Ewww, you know I hate cheese. I am not eating that!” my younger one wailed. This is the same child that would exist on cheese pizza if he had his way.
I dished out a serving for myself, while telling them pointedly that they were welcome to fix a bowl of cereal for dinner if they didn’t like what I made, and I stomped off to the table to eat in peace. Defeated, I brought the woefully ignored enchiladas to share with my co-workers for lunch the next day. They oooh-ed and ahhh-ed over them, proclaiming them delicious and agreeing that my children must have the taste buds of garden slugs to pass on my cooking. I felt much better. The cooking fail trend is unfortunately continuing in my house. My homemade blueberry muffins were panned unanimously this morning for not having enough icing to put my boys into a diabetic coma. I popped them into the freezer with a smile on my face knowing that they (and I) would get some love on Tuesday morning when I bring them to the people who appreciate my efforts and don’t leave their wet towels all over the bathroom floor.
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Tags: baking, co-workers, cooking, food, school, unappreciated mom
Heidi,
I feel your pain. If I dare to put artichokes in anything, nobody besides me will touch them!
I’ll eat your cooking if you’ll eat mine!
Deb
The stories of your boys kill me.
I mean “You know I hate cheese”? Ahh, that sounds like my house only your attitude is slightly better than mine.
Debbie, you have got a deal (I love artichokes!). Amy, I don’t have a better attitude. My boys are just older than your girls and I have gotten a thicker skin from the food fails over the years