THE WAY TO A MAN’S HEART

As I’ve mentioned before, Mother taught her girls to cook – and she was very patient about it. Well, there WAS that time that she came home after I had made a cake that called for nine egg whites to see nine egg yolks in individual cups staring up at her when she opened up the refridge. And even then she wasn’t too upset; she just had to figure out what to do with the yolks. And the cake was really good. So when we three girls walked down the aisle, we had a pretty good idea on how to whip up a meal.

The genius had a somewhat different experience from mine. His mother had only recently learned to cook when I met him. When she and her husband first married, they had either lived in a boarding house where all the meals were included, or they had a cook (can you imagine that!). Then later on after they moved to the house in Belle Meade, the genius’s grandmother came to live with them. She cooked all their meals until she passed away while visiting her other daughter in Louisville. The genius was sixteen when this occurred, and that’s when Bobbie (the children’s name for their grandmother) began to cook all the meals. By the time I met the genius, his mother had been at it for about five years.

There were some things she did really well: her fried chicken was outstanding, as was her fudge pie. She also made the best toast I ever ate. (It is a little more trouble than just sticking bread in the toaster, but sometimes I get a hankering for it and make some.) And she was the first one to say that she wasn’t a good cook; she didn’t do all that well on a day-to-day basis. (Who does?) But I quickly realized that the way to snag the genius was to cook for him --- good old fashioned comfort food and a lot of it!! Does that man like to eat!! My sisters love to cook for him (in fact, many women love to cook for him) because he enjoys eating so much, and they cater to his every whim.

So I’m convinced that’s one reason he married me because of my cooking “skills.” However, from the time I went back to school, I couldn’t seem to manage cooking all the time as well as studying or teaching. So we ate out quite a bit. We loved meat and threes and have discovered many of them over the years. I guess the one we have stuck with most consistently is the Sylvan Park Restaurant on Murphy Road, but there have been many others. We also love Mexican and continue to eat that at least once a week. The genius especially likes it because he can get all the chips and salsa he wants. In fact, anytime a restaurant has an “all you can eat” sign, he is interested. I try to discourage those and buffet restaurants because usually they are just not good. I think after several bad experiences I have almost convinced him.

But now I’m not working anymore, so I don’t really have an excuse not to cook. “I don’t like to cook anymore” doesn’t really go over too well with the genius. He has worked all day and he wants to stay in at least during the week and eat at home. So I have had to relearn how to do it after twenty plus years of cooking spasmodically. (I have a sign in my kitchen that reads, “I only have a kitchen because it came with the house.” That was funny while I worked but not anymore.) I must say in relearning I have had a few failures --- I had to throw out a batch of cornbread I made from scratch, so I began using a mix. I’m happy to say after watching BJ in Florida whip up delicious cornbread many times, I have learned how. The genius was thrilled with the pan I made over the weekend.

As in all marriages, compromise has helped. The genius eats a big meal at noon in the cafeteria (he pays $100/year for this privilege for all he can eat), and at night we might have sandwiches or even a frozen dinner. Or I might make a one-dish meal like vegetable beef soup, chili, or spaghetti. At any rate, we are still in the process of resolving it, but I’m doing better. And he is a big help with the clean up, which I hate.

I’ll conclude this entry by relating a funny thing that occurred a few nights ago. Right after dinner I took Rufus for a walk and when I came back, he was just finishing the clean up by wiping off the counter. He said, petulantly, “Next time I'll take Rufus for a walk and you can clean up.”

I laughed and said, “Great! I’d much rather stay in and clean than go out in the cold!” Then I went on to say, “You don’t have to do either one --- I’ll do them both --- I don’t mind.” This was all said laughingly because it was so funny to me.

But after thinking it over, I’ll definitely suggest that he walk with Rufus, especially if it’s cold and rainy, while I clean up the kitchen.