Me? Cook?

I love the idea of cooking.

Many evenings you will find me pouring over cookbooks and reading recipes in women’s magazines. I salivate over the prepared meals and make a mental check to figure out which ingredients I have and which I need to purchase. Last week I almost made beef stew, yesterday I came ‘this close’ to whipping up a batch of homemade blueberry pancakes.

But then I remembered-I can’t cook. My lack of culinary skills doesn't mean my children live on a diet of take out pizza and popsicles. Thankfully, either my husband will cook for them or their caregiver (I work fulltime which helps keep me out of the kitchen).

My fear of the kitchen comes honestly. My mother was never comfortable cooking either. She would put a pot of food on the stove and off she would scamper to do something she enjoyed. The smoke detector would alert her when the meal was done. Having sat through many burned meals I decided that the cooking gene does not run in my family.

In grade 9 home economics, I happily participated in the creation of culinary delights such as ‘toad in the hole’ and coconut macaroon cookies. But once I left the classroom it just seemed like too much effort to turn on the oven. Am I the only mummy out there who does not cook?

It seems to be a given that once you become a mummy you are granted an apron and a flair for cooking. In my single days, a can of peaches or a bowl of cereal was my usual dinner. But now that I have children it is assumed that I will become a wonderful cook.

When I am with my mummy group and I listen to discussions of the latest kid friendly cookbook or the elaborate meal they are cooking for the holiday I just smile and nod. I don’t want any of them to know my dirty little secret. I have one dish I learned to make that I take with me to all festivities and usually half way through cooking it my husband steps in and completes it for me (have I mentioned I can’t cut vegetables without slicing into my thumb every singe time?).

I know in a few years my husband will get tired of being the sole cook in our family and we will say goodbye to the children’s caregiver. At that time I will do more than just read a recipe. I will take the next step and actually prepare a meal. I will learn the term to words such as ‘blanching’ and ‘paprika’ and be the mummy with the famous pork roast recipe. Just give me a few years, will you?"