repository for the occasional perambulatory rumination

cooking is a creative act (among other things), and while she may not paint or sculpt or draw, my mother – like her mother before her – EXCELS at cooking. (those who know her and read this blog are nodding their heads in agreement and saying aloud, “un huh. yes. that’s the truth.”)

i did not inherit the cooking gene. (those who know me and read this blog are nodding their heads vigorously in agreement and shouting “we know, we know.”)

well, yesterday we needed to (a) use the potatoes that we couldn’t leave in the pantry when we head home and (b) test out the new vent hood (the one that will send the air OUTSIDE and AWAY instead of blowing it right back INTO the kitchen where it was to start with) mr. thrillenity had just installed (as evidenced by the dusty fingerprints):


being a two-birder from way back, i peeled those potatoes, floured them, and fried them just the way i’ve seen mother do so many times before . . . and i do mean JUST the way i’ve seen her do so many times before.



creativity can be messy – we all know that – and so can cooking, especially for those who, like my mother, approach cooking with reverence and as a creative act. me, i tend to focus more on keeping things neat to reduce the amount of time and effort needed to clean-up afterwards. i try not to make a mess, cleaning-up as i go. cooking is something i HAVE to do.

but not yesterday.

the plan was to cook just like mother does, and i stuck to the plan, without regard for future clean-up. without regard for losing cooking oil or flour. i cooked like i had an entire staff of cleaner-uppers who would take care of everything when i was finished. i flat-out cut loose, stayed in the moment while cooking those potatoes, and not only did i thoroughly enjoy cooking (most likely a first for me), we all enjoyed The Best Potatoes Ever. (except for the ones mother cooks, of course.)


so am i a cooking convert? will i work menus and grocery shopping forays into my weekly schedule? will i don my apron and cook happily ever after? nah. i’m over it now.

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