Monday 2 April 2012
Cooking - who knew it was a competition?
So, I am a pretty good cook. I am exceedingly modest too, so that should read I AM AN AWESOME COOK. Most of the time. I have had my fair share of disasters in the kitchen, but unlike others in my extended family - I learn from my mistakes.
The MIL has this thing where she makes my kids their favourite food & then sends it home with them so they can 'share with mummy'. Yeah right she is trying to beat me at my own game. My kids are not fussy, they will eat just about anything provided it has enough sugar/chocolate/combination of both, so you know when they refuse - it's pretty bad. And then, when our greedy guts horse won't eat it - you know it's not fit for human consumption. This pretty much applied to everything MIL has ever baked, made, frozen, cooked, whatever. She can even ruin packet food, which is a pretty mean feat.
My mother (who happens to be an extremely awesome cook) lives in fear of being invited for a meal to the IL's house. I live for the day when my mum gets drunk enough to tell MIL exactly what was wrong with the meal - I have witnessed something similar at another dinner party when the hostess innocently asked 'how was it?'. Mum was 3 sheets to the wind on cheap wine coolers and proceeded to give a detailed description of exactly what was wrong with the meal – I (an impressionable teenager at the time) found this hilarious, the hostess was mortified and the other diners (including the hostess’ husband) in complete agreeance. Needless to say, we weren’t invited back again!
Anyway, my kids are wise to the MIL’s tricks, they usually ditch the food in the garden bed on the way home (seeing as how no human or animal in its right mind will eat it) and ask mum to make PROPER food, using a recipe from a book, and not just a random procession of ingredients thrown in the mix master, beaten to within an inch of its life and baked at 5000 deg until burnt beyond all recognition & covered with any revolting concoction that involves icing sugar & alcohol & butter. (Snarky much? Who me?)
So it turns out cooking is a competition & I’m winning. How do I know? Everyone eats my food………
The MIL has this thing where she makes my kids their favourite food & then sends it home with them so they can 'share with mummy'. Yeah right she is trying to beat me at my own game. My kids are not fussy, they will eat just about anything provided it has enough sugar/chocolate/combination of both, so you know when they refuse - it's pretty bad. And then, when our greedy guts horse won't eat it - you know it's not fit for human consumption. This pretty much applied to everything MIL has ever baked, made, frozen, cooked, whatever. She can even ruin packet food, which is a pretty mean feat.
My mother (who happens to be an extremely awesome cook) lives in fear of being invited for a meal to the IL's house. I live for the day when my mum gets drunk enough to tell MIL exactly what was wrong with the meal - I have witnessed something similar at another dinner party when the hostess innocently asked 'how was it?'. Mum was 3 sheets to the wind on cheap wine coolers and proceeded to give a detailed description of exactly what was wrong with the meal – I (an impressionable teenager at the time) found this hilarious, the hostess was mortified and the other diners (including the hostess’ husband) in complete agreeance. Needless to say, we weren’t invited back again!
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