For most of my life, cooking is not something I've been known for. I could cook enough to get by. My Mom is a wonderful cook, and so is my sister. One day when I got really ambitious, I decided to make a peach pie from scratch crust and all. I was in college at the time, and my sister Emily was still in high school. My beloved Grammy came into the kitchen and smiled at my attempts and asked very sweetly if Emily had helped me make that crust. I was not thrilled, but Grammy is far too sweet not to forgive.
My cooking in college consisted of simple pasta dishes and things that I could put in the oven. When Emily and I lived together in college, she often got angry with me for not doing my fair share of the cooking, and admittingly I did pawn much of it off on her. However, when it comes time for dinner, we want the best food possible, and Emily's food was definitely better than mine.
When I started dating Nick, my cooking insecurities skyrocketed. My mother-in-law is also a great cook, a catering-grade cook. And his grandmother's food is legendary in the Elgin family. Needless to say I was worried about sharing my cooking with not only Nick, but also with his family. But Nick is encouraging, and I gained a lot of confidence thanks to his nephew. One of the first things I made to take to his family was a chocolate cake. But this isn't just a regular chocolate cake. It's got Marscapone Cheese frosting. A-mazing!! On the way to the farm, the cake split in half...literally. It formed a crack in the middle of the cake and pretty much crumbled. I was mortified. Nick's mother made wedding cakes for crying out loud, and here I was taking a crumbling chocolate cake. But dispite it's...unappealing...appearance, it tasted pretty good. The youngest nephew had 2 peices and the youngest niece ate all the icing off hers. The next visit I made another cake, and the youngest nephew started dancing around the kitchen chanting "Choc-late Cake, Choc-late Cake..."
Since I've moved into our house, I've gotten a lot bolder as far as cooking, and feel like I've finally developed into a pretty good cook. I've pretty much been forced to. One of the perks of marrying a cattle farmer is the freezer of beef in our garage. But along with that, cooking beef the same way all the time gets old pretty fast. Food Network has become my savior. And I no longer cringe when I see recipes that are listed as "Intermediate" or higher.
So the moral of this blog you ask? When you think you aren't good at something, just keep trying. One day you might come into it. And you might end up with one of the few husbands ever that doesn't miss his mothers cooking. But most importantly perhaps, don't stress, because it's just all part of adjusting to married life.
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