Mia: I’m A Better Cook Than Mom

41 comments on this post so far. Add yours!

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  Liz on March 22 at 12:31 a.m.

  I wouldn’t say better or worse: different. I grew up in the sixties/seventies when people put up these elaborate spreads. My mother read Gourmet magazine, watched Julia Child and made a lot of different stuff.

  I don’t have that kind of time and I don’t like that kind of food. But I do make homemade bread and a lot of other things from scratch. Just normal, regular food.

  I am proof that anybody can learn to cook if only they follow recipes. My culinary disasters were legend. I had a roommate once whose brother was a fireman. They took a batch of my cookies down to the firehouse so they could LAUGH at them!!! I reconnected with an old college roomie on facebook and my memory was refreshed about the time that I placed a can of chili on the stove and heated it still in the can. Scary stuff!!!

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  marmitetoasty on March 22 at 12:53 a.m.

  My mother must of been the worse cook in the world…… I remember as a child she would make this sliced bland skinless sausauges and sliced potatoes and would cook them in the oven in just a very thin tasteless gravy…… and like Mia it would physically make me sick to eat it….. I remember sitting there with my dinner untouched one day knowing that if I ate it I would vomit it up…. not a word was said… phew I had got away with it - only, I hadnt - when I got up for school the next day the same cold congelled dinner was placed in front of me for breakfast…. again I didnt eat it, it was there in front of me that evening for dinner when everyone else was eating something else…. this happened for 3 days - remembering we didnt even have a fridge back then when I was 8ish…. by day 3 when the mould had just started to grow…. I had no choice but to eat it…. I had not eaten for 3 days LOL….

  Sooooooo…. YES YES YES I am a better cook then me mother….

  x

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  Liz on March 22 at 3:00 a.m.

  marmite, my mother is a Brit (Liverpool, to be exact) and one of the most DELICIOUS things she made was fried tomatoes for breakfast. YUM!!
  As a rule, I did not like British food, but the desserts and candy and few things like those tomatoes are excellent. Whenever I would cross the pond to see my grandmother I would always chow down on a lot of really good Indian food, though.

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  marmitetoasty on March 22 at 3:15 a.m.

  Hey - there aint nuffin wrong with our British grub lol…….. how can you pass up on jellied eels and toad in the hole :) - you doodles have such the wrong grasp on what is British food….. its wonderful…. WONDERFUL….

  :) you mother is a scouser? ….. my oh my LOL

  x

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  marmitetoasty on March 22 at 3:15 a.m.

  Sending you all a jar of cockles to warm ‘the cockles of ya hearts’ ;)

  x

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  marmitetoasty on March 22 at 3:16 a.m.

  PS - Its MOTHERS DAY here today……. I hope the sun shines down on you all there…… its another glorious day here today..

  Davieboy - enjoy the christening…….

  x

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  KIA on March 22 at 10:05 a.m.

  I’m not as good of a cook as my mother. My mother being Mia, who surpassed her mother greatly, and has raised the bar to an elite culinary status. Of course not quite being as good as one of the best, still makes you pretty good!

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  Frum Helen Back on March 22 at 10:44 a.m.

  KIA, I will never forget watching you text message and talk at the same time at Blog Fest. Amazing! Who cares if you ever cook as good as your mom. She’ll never be able to text message as fast as you!

  I loved my mother’s cooking. It was loaded with grease and flavor. There were a few dishes I refused and one was sour crout and weiners. Gross fixed by anyone.

  I hate to cook. I hate it with a passion. Back in the early 50’s they forced all girls to take two semesters of cooking and two more of sewing. My sewing teacher finally hemmed the skirt I made that I had to wear in a “fashion show.” And I got in a lot of trouble in the cooking class for being a clown and not taking it seriously.

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  Bent on March 22 at 10:45 a.m.

  I’m told I am a pretty darn good cook. My mom tried and got better after I moved out of the house. Marmite’s story reminded me of my mom’s meatloaf…

  Man, I couldn’t choke that stuff down if I tried. So, on meatloaf night I would wear sweatpants or shorts with an elastic waitband and whitey tighties underneath. When no one was looking I would drop the meatloaf piece by piece into my underwear. Then I would scurry off to the bathroom after dinner and dump it out my shorts…

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  Frum Helen Back on March 22 at 10:46 a.m.

  Forget what I said about KIA. It was Liz’s daughter that is the champion texter. OMG but I’m getting old. Ok, I’m not getting old, I AM old.

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  Dennis on March 22 at 10:52 a.m.

  My cooking is limited to the BBQ grill. If I even think about entering the kitchen,,,,,,,, my mortality becomes an issue.

  ((And she wonders why I refer to her as the “War Department”))

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  Liz on March 22 at 11:55 a.m.

  Helen, your home ec story brought back ” happy” home ec memories of my own. The cooking part was mostly uneventful: we made cookies and jello. (yes, jello…my mother griped about her tax dollars going to teach us to make jello).

  But come sewing time…I managed to sew my finger to the machine. The instructor had to unhook me. LOL. I didn’t go near a sewing machine before or after that even for many, many years. Despite the fact that my mother made a lot of my clothes and even made herself a winter coat. No interest at all.

  Funny thing is though, one of my favorite ways to chill out these days is quilting. Somewhere out there, there is a last laugh going on…

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  Cis on March 22 at 3:50 p.m.

  My mother went to Boston Cooking School, so she was a darn good cook… she was one of those who took a pince of this or that for her recipes… if I wanted one of hers, I had to stand there and kind of judge how much a pinch or two was..
  She also set a mean table. When I brought my husband from Minnesota, to dinner at mom’s, he looked at the table and then at me.. I told him to just watch me… it was from the outside in..for the silverware. And Thanksgiving was about a 7 course meal. And you had this tiny spoon for the salt, and etc. There was the serving plate, which you never ate off of.
  We were brought up that way. She about died when she came to Christmas dinner at my house, with one plate, all the food on one plate. And just one fork, spoon, and knife. lol…

  The one thing she cooked that I gagged on was…liver… and like Marmite.. it was a repeat meal until I ate it…dinner, breakfast, lunch and back to dinner… I smeared it with mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise, but none of them worked… I sure wish I knew Brent during that time, I never thought about that one.. that was good.

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  Frum Helen Back on March 22 at 4:16 p.m.

  Liz, I did learn how to thread a needle and that has come in handy many times. But my favorite cooking class story happened near the end of the year and we had to clean out the cupboards and clean up. I found the pie crusts we made months earlier and since I love pie crust, I asked the other girls if I could have their crusts to take home too. The teacher told me I shouldn’t eat them since they were too old. I told her we had nothing to eat at home and were very hungry. The poor thing started tearing up and let me have the pie crusts. I have the feeling that she probably reported the incident to the principal and if he called my mom, she took my behavior in stride. Mother knew I could have done something much worse.

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  Sam on March 22 at 4:29 p.m.

  Both my mother and father are great cooks. Though I’d wager my father is better. It seems that, on my dad’s side, the guys are all great cooks. One uncle is a former butcher and great cook. Another uncle is actually a professional chef. And my dad cooks wicked meals.

  I do, too.

  I’ve worked as a prep cook, cook and chef at various places, including The Coeur d’Alene Resort as a banquet chef and at O’Shay’s (Steve was just apparently grand marshal of the St. Patrick’s Day Parade) as a cook and professional beer poorer (at age 19, yes!).

  Now, despite the fact that I cut the tip of my thumb off at the Resort, I still cook some fantastic meals. My wife does a lot of the basic cooking but when we go really, really fancy is when I cook, for the most part (although this week I’ve been graced by her cooking stuffed cabbage, a wonderful lasagna and homemade Mac&Cheese … which I won’t eat out of a box as it makes me nauseous).

  So, long story short: My dad is a better cook than my mother, who is a fantastic cook, too, and I believe I’m better than her as well.

  But seriously, I grew up as a child spoiled by good cooking.

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  inlandempiregirl on March 22 at 4:52 p.m.

  My mom and I are just different cooks. Mom has traditional made from scratch dishes she is famous for. I am more adventurous in my cooking and love to try new recipes, especially for potato dishes, drinks, and desserts. Bent… no dropping meatloaf in the sweatpants when we were growing up. It is still one of Mom’s signature dishes!

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  zelda on March 22 at 5:48 p.m.

  I am a much better cook than my mom. The bar isn’t high — she hated to cook. If it was processed and came in a box, my mother met the truck. She also thought that the food engineers at Campbell Soup were “geniuses.” That was her exact word.

  As for family staples, I can truthfully say that after I left home I never ate another lima bean.

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  JeanC on March 22 at 6:08 p.m.

  My mom isn’t a bad cook, but I was in my 20s before I discovered broccoli wasn’t supposed to be grey and limp when cooked. I have to say she has improved over the years, but I am the better cook.

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  Stickman on March 22 at 6:55 p.m.

  My mom always made meat and potatoes. For the old school people, such delight. For now, I will pass on anything meat, and leave all of that to you.

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  Lynne on March 23 at 8:09 a.m.

  I love to cook. A matter of survival at my house growing up. Mom was, still is, a terrible cook. She simply hates it. I swear that woman can strip and re-build a Mercedes in a day though. Or a sailboat. Or tear apart and re-build a bathroom, or roof, or anything else.
  We were out sailing the Caribbean for two weeks on a friends’ boat years ago. The engine failed. Captain Jim was down in the engine room. Down the hatch goes Mom, all 100 lbs of her. She emerged bloody and bruised about an hour later, but, by God, that engine was up and running and we didn’t have another problem with it the whole trip.

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  marmitetoasty on March 23 at 11:55 a.m.

  I had never heard of macaroni cheese out of a box until I came to Dingleberries…….. gagging just at the thought of it LOL

  I make a wicked macaroni cheese with stilton topping and brocolli base :)

  x

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