For all my friends and family, it is no secret that I am the biggest culinary challenged person that exists. For my daughters? Well, for them, mommy is the greatest cook ever, or so I thought until recently, when I asked my 3-year-old to wait in the living room while I made her dinner:
“Itala, would you please wait with your sister in the living room while I make dinner?”
She turns around with this look of utter surprise in her face, hand on hip and asks:
“WHAT?!?! You know how to cook?!?!”
I’ve been caught. I’ve been caught by my know it all toddler. Who knew she was even paying attention. But luckily for me, my faithful 6-year-old stood up to my defense. Yes! I knew it! I can always count on her!
“Itala, mami can cook! She made us mushy pasta the other day.” And by mushy she means overcooked. Thanks kid. Sigh…
I have spent the last years tricking them, lying to them, and deceiving them into thinking that I could handle dinner. I cannot. And it’s a fact that I’ve come to terms with. I can’t follow a recipe, it stressed me out. I sweat, I swear, I cry. I once tried to cook a recipe from scratch and ended up with some weird witch’s potion.
I have a total of 2 menus in my repertoire. Grilled chicken (only if it’s the thin cut) and un-mushy pasta (only if it’s not angel hair). What? Do you think I’m going to let my kids starve to death? I won’t, at least not until they’re old enough to make themselves dinner!
So this is how I’ve kept them alive and healthy…I married a CHEF (caps lock and bold, yes, it’s that important). I only married him for his culinary skills really, that, and the fact that he’s a tall, handsome Italian doesn’t hurt either ;)
Check out my chef in the middle
So at home, dad cooks and mom does the dishes.
Oh, if I ever post a recipe (which I doubt), please be sure it was completely made by my husband. Which in that case, I would take note because he is THAT good!