During the late 80s, a popular commercial promoted the idea of a woman being able to bring home the bacon,fry it up in a pan, never ever let you forget your a man. Basically saying could have all, be all, and do it all. 

The fast lane life, with high powered career, family, home, children, and a high powered husband. Funny thing about commercials and real life. They are rarely equal by comparison.

Take the home cooked meal for example. Over the last couple of years, it has been brought to my attention that my efforts to plan and prepare family meals ” weren’t all that”. ( According to my traumatized adult children) 

I was very young when I got married and preferred outside adventures with real life experiences. However, I was expected to spend more time inside with groceries and a magical stove. The expectation?  To prepare mouthwatering come and get it, come-home-early-meals. 

Truth is my children had to eat. So I had to learn how to cook… something. Truth is, my relationship with the kitchen did not happen automatically. I never purchased those cute kitchen containers that read FLOUR SUGAR CORNMEAL. Truth is, I  learned to prepare things that could have been made in an easy bake oven.

I overcooked pasta, burnt biscuits, bacon, destroyed cakes,  smashed potato salad, over boiled eggs, and under cooked rice and pancakes. After learning a few disastrous lessons, I surrendered to the shortcuts and decided to try harder.  My holiday meals did improve slightly. Soon there were meals my family called their favorites; homemade dressing, biscuits,banana pudding, apple pie,macaroni and cheese, roast and potatoes.

My regular meals expanded into a monthly rotation. This included meat loaf, spaghetti, red snapper, fried chicken, tuna casserole, hot dogs, pork and beans, pinto beans , cabbage, pizza and the life saving hamburger helper. Somewhere after my daughter turned two-years old, I stopped eating red meat.

Then it happened. The silent protests with lots of leftovers. There were fewer meals or conversations around the table. Suddenly, I found myself shopping, bringing in the groceries and cooking alone. I do not recall a lot of “thank you for cooking” comments. Maybe on occasion…maybe.  

Thank GOD for being in my ear. For knowing what I really needed.
It took attending a women’s conference to redirect my wrong thoughts. Truth is, I was one of the presenters. I was asked to speak on the traditional “female role” topics. 

Funny how we think a married ” Christian” woman with children and a husband is qualified to ” speak on it” . Truth is, I was tired, weary, burdened and lonely. Did I love my family?  Yes. Did I share my reality? No.
I only shared hallmark- good times, prayers of overcoming and the joy a family does bring. I emphasized  the ongoing work that constantly involves you, your spouse and GOD.

I returned from the conference with a renewed mindset. I went to the library and the local bookstore in search of new meals for my family. I bought a recipe catalog categorized by meat, desserts vegetarian vegetables etc.  I prepared what I thought were delicious healthy meals with meat substitutes. It took my daughter’s tears at the table displaying her distaste for the unrecognized mystery potatoes with oven fried lemon chicken, for me to put the brakes on the new meals project. “Rush the leftovers” became a popular suggestion for them as I became unpopular in the kitchen.

Fast forward. I have recently faced my kitchen/cooking disconnect. I believe it is tied to the lack of appreciation I experienced from my family when I did cook. On the other hand, my family never expressed their true feelings about the meals that traumatized them. (Pizza on Thursdays, Mr.Husband, Meatloaf,-Son, Hamburger Helper, or the frozen peas in the Tuna Casserole-Daughter.) 

Fast forward Easter Sunday 2020. While on worlwide lockdown, my daughter brings up her childhood memories or lack of memories of what we affectionatly call “big momma food”. You know what I am talking about. ( Think about the movie ” Soul Food” with Vanessa L.Williams, Vivica Fox)
She joked (low key) about somewhere there is a pan of hot water cornbread, mustard, collard greens, baked ham, Mac and cheese, peach cobbler, smoked neckbones and ox tails. ( None of which she eats.)

“Yes you are correct”, I said as I heated up my food in the microwave.
 I respect and admire individuals who labor in love to provide such a feast that becomes a family legacy. My Mother is in that category.
Truth is, I am not. But my daughter truly is.

I have learned a lot about my daughter in the last year. For one thing , she is a phenomenal cook. Her food smells and tastes good. She and her former husband spent a lot of time cooking and trying new dishes and seasonings.
She has co-partnered and raised 3 young men. They contact her regularly to ask about a favorite dish. They each know how to prepare that meal.
A favorite memory of them is in the kitchen with her preparing a meal together as I watched from the table.( Out of the way). My post married life experiences have been dining out with gentlemen acquaintances or as luck would have it, he cooks for me.

I never knew how sweet and delicious it is to have a man who can really cook. It is like having a 5 star restaurant close down leaving just you and the chef. (Straight out of a movie) We didn’t walk down the aisle, but he sure made me welcome to dine at his table for breakfast…lunch or dinner.

I read somewhere once, facing the truth is the beginning of awareness. Truth is, cooking isn’t so bad. I have learned some new seasonings, and seriously making progress. It’s more about being appreciated for your efforts, and what comes from your heart.

FC Hickombottom 4/27/2020