I'm typing this while I'm watching Hell's Kitchen, and it's just hit me why this show makes me so uncomfortable. It's certainly not because my Mama was abusive, or spent the whole time she was trying to teach me to cook cussing me out. But there is something about this show that makes a connection to the way I felt as a child, trying to learn how to cook.
I know how they feel ....
I could never do it right. My mother was a great cook. Everything she made looked and tasted great, and it was all made from scratch. The harder I tried to make it right, it seemed like it looked or tasted just that much worse. She never fussed, but I knew she wasn't pleased, either.
So ... to this day, I don't like cooking. I can nuke a box in the microwave or heat up an opened can of something, but that's just about it, and I've never really wanted to do any more. My DH does the cooking now that he's retired, and that suits me just fine.
I realize just how snippy this whole post sounds, but I'll have to admit it's exactly the way I felt as a child about cooking, and I still feel that way.
Mama wanted a frilly froo froo little girl, and she just didn't get one. I feel sorry for her now for that, but it's just not who I was. Don't get me wrong, I've always been feminine in my own way, but I was just too much my own person to fit any stereotype.
But one thing I always knew ... she loved me with a love that couldn't have been any bigger if she had tried, and I loved her just as much.
nostalgia, childhood memories, Hell's Kitchen, learning to cook