The cooking Lesson
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My mother called to ask me if I would help her learn to cook. Of course she knows how to cook, but she had gotten a tad rusty as she had become very dependent upon the local Chinese delivery and delicious take-out from either Zabars or Citarella.
I thought the request a bit odd since I don't think of myself as a particularlly competent cook. Nevertheless, I decided to take on the challenge.
It turns out that she really admires my culinary abilities or at least the fearless way in which I approach cooking I came over to her apartment on the Upper Westside and we picked out a recipe from the Pierre Freney " Rapide Cuisine" cookbook. I assessed her kitchen and ingredients. She really has very little cooking accoutrements, since she mostly takes out or orders in. So we made a list of ingredients we needed to buy and we were on our way to Citarellas.
Mom followed me around dutifully, shopping basket in hand, and seemed very excited by the prospect of buying all the ingredients. We bought chicken breasts, shallots,garlic, Mesclun, Arugula, tomatos, Black Pepper, Sea Salt, Worsteshire Sauce ( "I had a bottle like this for my entire marriage') , tomato paste , goat cheese, fresh tarragon and many other goodies. We then went to Zabars to consider purchasing a new sautee pan. We almost did, but she changed her mind. She just wasn't ready to make that commitment and decided it was best to use a rather large white Creuset pan she already had.
We arrived home unpacked our ingredients, and started cooking our recipe," Chicken with Mustard and Shallots". We realized that she already had a bottle of Worsheshire and we both laughed at the irony of now having two huge bottles of something one rarely uses.
We sauteed the chicken breasts and made the sauce that in true Freney fashion included both white wine and heavy cream. Mom thought it would be nice to sip the wine while cooking ( just like Julia Child herself). I admired Mom's savoire faire and abandon. and took a few swigs of the opened Chardonnay. We cooked the Rice Pilaf, ( ok, the boxed kind - a great discovery from my husband when we were first married ) , set the table, and served ourselves a lovely dinner at 5pm.
After our dinner, I had an appointment and got ready to leave. Mom thanked me profusely for the "lesson" and asked if we could possibly make this a weekly activity. Apparently, she finds my" fearlessness" about cooking very inspiring.
As I was walking to the subway, I was smiling to myself, feeling very content. I didn't know who was more gratified, mom or me. She had really made me feel worthy. It was an extradinary feeling to feel so appreciated and valued. To feel this way was so wonderful and unique that I smiled all the way to 72nd Street.
The cooking lesson had been most nutritious for both of us.
My mother called to ask me if I would help her learn to cook. Of course she knows how to cook, but she had gotten a tad rusty as she had become very dependent upon the local Chinese delivery and delicious take-out from either Zabars or Citarella.
I thought the request a bit odd since I don't think of myself as a particularlly competent cook. Nevertheless, I decided to take on the challenge.
It turns out that she really admires my culinary abilities or at least the fearless way in which I approach cooking I came over to her apartment on the Upper Westside and we picked out a recipe from the Pierre Freney " Rapide Cuisine" cookbook. I assessed her kitchen and ingredients. She really has very little cooking accoutrements, since she mostly takes out or orders in. So we made a list of ingredients we needed to buy and we were on our way to Citarellas.
Mom followed me around dutifully, shopping basket in hand, and seemed very excited by the prospect of buying all the ingredients. We bought chicken breasts, shallots,garlic, Mesclun, Arugula, tomatos, Black Pepper, Sea Salt, Worsteshire Sauce ( "I had a bottle like this for my entire marriage') , tomato paste , goat cheese, fresh tarragon and many other goodies. We then went to Zabars to consider purchasing a new sautee pan. We almost did, but she changed her mind. She just wasn't ready to make that commitment and decided it was best to use a rather large white Creuset pan she already had.
We arrived home unpacked our ingredients, and started cooking our recipe," Chicken with Mustard and Shallots". We realized that she already had a bottle of Worsheshire and we both laughed at the irony of now having two huge bottles of something one rarely uses.
We sauteed the chicken breasts and made the sauce that in true Freney fashion included both white wine and heavy cream. Mom thought it would be nice to sip the wine while cooking ( just like Julia Child herself). I admired Mom's savoire faire and abandon. and took a few swigs of the opened Chardonnay. We cooked the Rice Pilaf, ( ok, the boxed kind - a great discovery from my husband when we were first married ) , set the table, and served ourselves a lovely dinner at 5pm.
After our dinner, I had an appointment and got ready to leave. Mom thanked me profusely for the "lesson" and asked if we could possibly make this a weekly activity. Apparently, she finds my" fearlessness" about cooking very inspiring.
As I was walking to the subway, I was smiling to myself, feeling very content. I didn't know who was more gratified, mom or me. She had really made me feel worthy. It was an extradinary feeling to feel so appreciated and valued. To feel this way was so wonderful and unique that I smiled all the way to 72nd Street.
The cooking lesson had been most nutritious for both of us.
posted by mamainwaiting at 8:09 PM
2 Comments:
The weekly dinner lesson sounds like a very good plan!
I am catching up in here with all the posts. I wait with you too, Mama.
And if that extra bottle of Worcestershire sauce needs a home...
cheers.
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