Run Turkey Run

We are making preliminary preparations to move and I've haven't had time to post. After reading today's post over at Erin's blog http://ifyougiveamomamoment.blogspot.com I thought I'd repost this from Novemeber 24, 2009.

Hope everyone is having a good week :))


I love this time of the year. Thanksgiving then Christmas. For the many years that I was employed, this was always a time with a lot of days off. And, being the type A good little workaholic that I am, this was the only time I ever felt really good about not being at work.

Now, with the kids ... I love it for all the new experiences I get to see them have ... and all the new traditions we are creating as a new family.

Some of my fondest moments growing up was cooking with my mom on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. My parents were the type to always invite a lot of guests to our home ... especially those they knew were going to be alone. We always had a lot of cooking to do and we needed to start the day before.

For years I was the helper ... I would stir, fetch, wash dishes, slice apples, grease pans ... my mom was wise enough to not ask me to actually cook anything. She had watched me cook over the years. I could whip up a mean smoothie and scramble an egg ... but seriously ... I'm a bit of a disaster in the kitchen.

I've heard stories from others about how they can't cook but those same people mention things like Julienne (I should really Google what that is) and I know they are just being coy. I'm someone who actually wants to be a good cook but I just can't get there. My mom has done a recipe with me step by step and the end result is still not right. She can't figure it out ... it's like I have a disconnect in my brain and a dark cooking cloud following me around.

Let's include some examples here ... When I was briefly married in my early twenties, that guy was an accomplished Country Fried Chicken cook. One day he called me and asked me to cook this when I got home and gave me detailed instructions ... spices in the Bisquick on a plate to dredge (huh?) it in ... but first soak it in milk. Well, first what the %^$# is dredge? ... but I don't ask because by this point in our marriage I knew he was an idiot ... So, I get home and assemble the ingredients and I decide that I can skip a step by putting the milk in the Bisquick and making a paste (because of course he's an idiot and I can do this better for sure). I spackle the outside of the meat with the paste and put it in the electric skillet to fry ... now anyone reading this who knows what is about to happen ... YOU CAN COOK ... I had no idea that the outside would turn into a pancake ... or that the piece of meat would be raw under the perfectly cooked pancake ... I have to say he was quite impressed with my cooking ability ... not to mention my time saving technique.

Then there was the time that I was going to cook a whole chicken for dinner ... mom had told me about removing the contents in the cavity and to wash it ... but she didn't mention that it would smell bad. I don't eat (or cook) much meat so I wasn't sure what the smell should be when it was raw ... so I take the chicken to my mom, who is quietly reading in her room, to ask (looking back she may have been praying for me with a bible ... or maybe for herself and my dad) ... I tell her the problem, spread the legs of the chicken and shove it under her nose ... she abouts throws up on the bed, but makes it to the bathroom just in time ... she correctly asks me "What is wrong with you? How could you not know that the chicken is bad?". Now in my defense ... have you ever smelled fish before it's cooked? I just thought chicken smelled bad too before it was cooked.

I saved my mom's absolute best "M" cooking story for last because it's her favorite and I know she is going to read this ...

One Thanksgiving whilst cooking with my mom (she has at this point in life decided that I'm not to even attempt to make a decision on my own ... I'm only to do as told) she asks me to grease my hands ... I hesitate .. she has never asked this before ... but she is making bread and maybe she needs me to squish the dough and this will keep it from sticking to my hands ... so I stick my hands into the can of Crisco and get a large handful (because of course more is better ... I don't want to have dough sticking to my hands). I slather my hands front, back, in between fingers and I even grab a little more because I think I don't have enough ... then finally I look up at my mom and say "OK done ... what do you need me to do now" ... only I notice that my mom is looking at me with a really odd expression ... "What are you doing?" she asks "Greasing my hands" I say ... looonngg pause whilst she contemplates my stupidity ... "The PANS you idiot ... the PANS" ... yes ... she called me in idiot ... we laughed until we practically wet our pants ... and we still laugh just a hard each year when this subject inevitably comes up.

Happy Thanksgiving ... I hope everyone is creating some good memories with their families ... We will be eating a catered meal courtesy of Mimi's Cafe (and the $80.00 we gave them).