Vindication
"I like this, honey, but have you thought about making it this way? That's how my mom always made it."
or
"Sure, I like it. It's almost as good as the way my mother makes it."
or (even worse)
"My mom's version of this is so much better. Have you asked her for her recipe?"
Almost every married woman who cooks for her husband has heard some variation of this comment. Now, if that husband has learned to value having food placed before him, he has probably learned to keep those comments to himself. My marriage is no exception. In the early years, Terence did use to rhapsodize about his mother's and his grandmother's glorious cooking, while my attempts only earned the mediocre "Thanks, honey, that was good." He has long avoided those kind of comparisons, but I know that the feeling is still there sometimes.
Now, I never hoped to compete with some kinds of food. I'm no southern-bred woman, so I knew that my fried chicken, "greens" or grits would never live up. And I have never even attempted things liked fried chitlins. (Mostly because the smell alone makes me gag. If you don't know what chitlins are, don't ask. You don't want to know.)
However, when it comes to cheap and easy but still yummy things like tuna casserole, I happen to think my version of it is not too shabby. Terence will eat it, of course-- the man isn't picky, like I am. But it's just not something he really likes because I don't make it like his mother used to. She made it using white rice and peas, while my recipe calls for things like boxed mac n cheese and saltine crackers.
As you may remember we got a surprise visit from my in-laws about a month ago. I barely had any food in the house, but I did have all the ingredients on hand for my tuna casserole, so I threw together a double batch for lunch. Terence's mom was my first convert. "Wow, this is soooo good!" she raved. "It's so much better than the tuna casserole I make!" Even better, Terence's stepdad Leroy, who won't touch his wife's tuna casserole, downed more than one helping of mine, even though he wasn't feeling well. (Maybe the way I make it is more like his mother's?) That double batch of casserole disappeared in double-quick time.
Ah, sweet victory.
or
"Sure, I like it. It's almost as good as the way my mother makes it."
or (even worse)
"My mom's version of this is so much better. Have you asked her for her recipe?"
Almost every married woman who cooks for her husband has heard some variation of this comment. Now, if that husband has learned to value having food placed before him, he has probably learned to keep those comments to himself. My marriage is no exception. In the early years, Terence did use to rhapsodize about his mother's and his grandmother's glorious cooking, while my attempts only earned the mediocre "Thanks, honey, that was good." He has long avoided those kind of comparisons, but I know that the feeling is still there sometimes.
Now, I never hoped to compete with some kinds of food. I'm no southern-bred woman, so I knew that my fried chicken, "greens" or grits would never live up. And I have never even attempted things liked fried chitlins. (Mostly because the smell alone makes me gag. If you don't know what chitlins are, don't ask. You don't want to know.)
However, when it comes to cheap and easy but still yummy things like tuna casserole, I happen to think my version of it is not too shabby. Terence will eat it, of course-- the man isn't picky, like I am. But it's just not something he really likes because I don't make it like his mother used to. She made it using white rice and peas, while my recipe calls for things like boxed mac n cheese and saltine crackers.
As you may remember we got a surprise visit from my in-laws about a month ago. I barely had any food in the house, but I did have all the ingredients on hand for my tuna casserole, so I threw together a double batch for lunch. Terence's mom was my first convert. "Wow, this is soooo good!" she raved. "It's so much better than the tuna casserole I make!" Even better, Terence's stepdad Leroy, who won't touch his wife's tuna casserole, downed more than one helping of mine, even though he wasn't feeling well. (Maybe the way I make it is more like his mother's?) That double batch of casserole disappeared in double-quick time.
Ah, sweet victory.
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