Old Dog | New Tricks

Cooking has always made me anxious. It’s not that I produce horrible food when I do make a meal, I just don’t seem to have the knack of getting all the parts of the meal to be finished at the same time. The side dish (which needs to be served warm) might get done an hour before the main dish. Or I might get “surprised” with how long a something takes, having not read the recipe closely. All of this leads to making me feel nervous and generally not enjoy cooking. Thank heavens that Chris is an amazing cook (and mostly doesn’t mind doing this chore for our family) or we would be surviving on pot roast, lemon chicken and spaghetti, the three dishes I make without stress. It is a family joke that the kids could always tell when I had kitchen duty.

I have always admired those who create meals with apparent ease and actually profess to <gasp> enjoy cooking. My kids are all proficient and creative in the kitchen, my step brothers are both professional chefs, and I grew up in a family where both parents made meals. I figure the talent is there somewhere, buried beneath a layer of dread and worry, I just hadn’t had time to uncover it yet.

One thing my career change created was a little more time for projects. I now work four 10-hour days each week, and that extra day of blank calendar space had my family a little worried I would run out of things to do. At Christmas, I was gifted various activities designed to keep me from getting bored. I do find knitting and needlework calming, I love a good puzzle, and Spanish lessons are coming along pretty well. (Entiendo un poco de español.) And I decided that day of low pressure each week would be my opportunity to work on reducing my anxiety and improving my cooking skills, so I promised Chris I would make dinner every Thursday night that we were together in a place where it was possible.

Moroccan Chickpea Stew: beautiful…and bland

The early results were mixed in terms of the meals produced and stress levels induced. The first week, despite finding a recipe I liked over the weekend and deciding to make it, I forgot to actually shop for groceries and even looked up at Chris about 5:30 to ask “what are we having tonight?” only to realize “oh $#!%, I’m supposed to cook!” I’ve made foods that looked like good ideas on paper (ingredients were things I liked, the picture looked great) and resulted in a meal too bland one week and one too spicy the next. (Red pepper flake looks so innocent - how can just one teaspoon pack such a punch?) I started reading the entire recipe ahead of time after the Thursday I realized prep time included 1.5 hours I had not allotted for in my planning and had to pivot my menu at the last minute.

Over time, I’ve become more adventurous. (I learned how to make a childhood favorite - Monte Cristo sandwiches - a bit of a complex dish to assemble!) I am braver, making more than one new dish per meal. And I’ve found joy. When I made Corn Coconut Soup (stock from scratch!) and it turned out SO VERY YUMMY, I felt pride in the work and delight in serving it to someone I love.

And somehow over the last 10 weeks, I’ve gotten better. I still have nervous moments, usually the stress points near serving time when I’m not quite sure I can get everything done. I don’t have recipe selection down to an art yet. But I can feel my “cooking muscles” growing. It is easier to plan and execute, and the menu choices are more likely to land well on my palate. Of course, it is really just diving in and trying - getting more experience - that has made the difference. A good lesson: old dogs can learn new tricks…with practice.