I grew up in the company of several good cooks; my grandmother, my mother, my aunts, my sisters, my friends' moms, all the little church ladies and fabulous women of the community. You would have thought I would have known how to cook by the time I graduated from High School. WRONG!
I was much too busy to worry about culinary responsibilities. There was always basketball practice & games, boys, bonfires, boys, track meets, boys, football games, boys, Saturday nights spent cruising other area towns, boys...all the requisites for growing up and being socially acceptable in a West Texas small town. Cooking was literally the last thing on my mind. It didn't even make the list of life skills I thought were necessary for succeeding. Besides, at the time, my main goal in life was to someday become the ex-wife of a multi-millionaire and live happily ever after. And I never heard of a man who would have chosen Betty Crocker over Raquel Welch! So there ya go...such were my priorities. Little did I know that my life would not evolve in quite the same direction which I envisioned.
In spite of being an active member of 4H and a State Level member of the Future Homemakers of America, I started my adult life with very minimal cooking skills. Thanks to my Home Economics teacher, I did at least know how to cut up a chicken and bake a pound cake (even though it always turned out dough-ey in the middle). But even I knew boiled poultry & soggy strawberry shortcake was not the quickest way to a man's heart.
Enter Shannon...one of my dearest lifelong friends and roomate in our first apartment after we moved out of our parents' houses. Unlike me, Shannon had somehow managed to pay attention to Home Cooking 101 while growing up. She came up with the bright idea for us to cook dinner for a couple of guys we knew...to, ummmm, impress them...I guess? The Menu? Well...what any good Texas girl would cook for a man; chicken fried steak, cream gravy, mashed potatoes and green beans!
Okay. I had to admit it, "Shannon, I don't know how to make chicken fried steak."
Shannon replied, "No problem, you can work on the gravy,"
Starting to realize I was in way over my head, I confessed, "Shannon, I don't know how to make cream gravy."
In her usual, colorful verbage, Shannon looked at me with a rather annoyed look on her face and said something along these lines, "What the ****? Don't you know how to make ****? What the **** did your momma ever teach you? *** Bless! Can you at least boil the ******* potatoes?"
Embarrassed and more than a little intimidated, I answered, "****, yeah!"
So I set forth to the task at hand. Boil potatoes. I could do that! I could do that? Um, yeah.
About ten minutes into my endeavor, Shannon looked over at the products of my labor. She quickly broke into a hearty laugh and called me every word that you cannot find in a Thesaurus that has the same meaning as ******* idiot!
I did exactly as she told me...."get a saucepan, put the potatoes in, bring it to a boil, cook for about 15-20 minutes." I guess she should have been a tad bit more descriptive, because she obviously forgot to tell me to peel & cut the potatoes before putting them in the boiling water. It might have taken quite a while to boil 3 whole russett potatoes!
Hey, it wasn't my fault! At least I tried! I might not have started out right, but I finished well!
Oh...and the guy I was cooking for...he didn't show up. Yep, that's right...I got stood up! But Shannon, Tricia, Jeff, Chad & I had a really good meal that night. And not only did I eventually become a pretty decent cook that, on given occasion, could quite possibly contend with Betty Crocker, there have been certain moments in my life that I might have even given Raquel Welch a run for her money! His loss!
And the best part...I still stay in touch with all of the people who were at that table...that night...and they are people I am proud to call my lifetime friends. We should get together again sometime...I'll make the mashed potatoes!
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