I have fond memories of preparing meals for my family. I started at a very young age. I recall being only five years old when I prepared my first meal on a
wood stove. Initially I’d said I was four, the more I thought about it, I realized that we didn’t have a woodstove in the first house we lived. That cookstove was in the second home.
Creative cooking
Anyway I thought cooking was fun, and was cooking long before I cooked for real. The only difference was my cooking was part of my playtime. It’s one of the few “girly activities” I enjoyed doing, and my mother believing that girls should like “girly” things, held onto that.
During my cooking playtime, I got creative and made all sorts of food in the yard. Armed with one of my mother’s castoff mixing bowls, water, dirt, grass, leaves, damaged veggies, I made all sorts of interesting cuisines. Occasionally I would coax my brother into eating some of the imaginative meals I prepared. Of course now, he’d deny ever doing such a thing.
Being a child with an active imagination those meals were transformed from the simple ingredients that were into that bowl to a meal that could be displayed at an elaborate table setting. My mother made everything, and Sundays were an elaborate affair. My mother saw my interest in cooking (part of me thinks she just humored me since I constantly begged her about letting me cook for real) and finally decided that under her watchful eye, I’d be able to prepare my first meal. I still remember that first meal vividly. It was a simple meal. I made it exclusively for my father on our woodstove. I’m a daddy’s girl.
Some people swear up and down that food cooked on a woodstove tastes much better than food cooked on a gas or electric stove. They’re stubborn folks, and nothing you can do will convince them otherwise. I happen to be one of those people. During the winter time, you’ll see me preparing the majority of my our meals on the woodstove we have. It heats the entire house, which cuts the electric bill by more than half thank you very much! The bonus is, I’m able to prepare some amazing meals too.
Getting eggs from the hens…
The eggs had been gathered from our Bantam chickens a few hours earlier. That’s right we had chickens. I’m very familiar with what goes into putting a meal made out of chicken, turkeys, and even pigs onto the dinner plate. I’ve seen many animals killed to eat as a child. I’m also very familiar with plucking the feathers, gutting, and making them clean for consumption. It’s truly a messy and smelly affair, and something I’m glad I don’t have to do again.
In our house, gathering eggs from our chickens was my responsibility. I didn’t mind, I loved animals and the Bantam rooster didn’t bother me. My brother was another story, as soon as the rooster saw him it went on full frontal attack, screaming and squawking and simply scaring the living daylights out of my brother. It was so funny! Well for me, not for my brother. Bantams are smaller than your standard chicken, and seeing this teeny chicken fearlessly attack my brother made me laugh. The Bantam rooster looked a lot like the one I’ve posted above. He didn’t bother me though, and he didn’t mind my petting him or his little harem of hens either. My brother often asked me why the rooster didn’t bother me, I smugly told him that Mr. Rooster could smell fear. 😉
Cooking: Turning my fantasy into a reality
Eggs gathered I eagerly went back into our house and my mother showed me how to make scrambled eggs. Naturally it took longer than normal. I learned the most important lesson of washing my hands before I touched food. I learned the fine art of cracking an egg, without getting eggs into the bowl. My mother introduced me to seasons too. It was exciting cooking over that woodstove, and I eagerly thought about my fathers’ reaction once he ate my amazing meal. The fact that he had already eaten a full course dinner which mother made earlier ceased to dampen my spirits. I was his daughter after all, he’d eat anything I prepared. Regardless of how it tasted! Dad was cool like that.
Encouraging creativity
My father didn’t disappoint, and shortly after the eggs were prepared (looking a bit dry I might add) he wolfed them down quickly and declared them the best eggs he’d ever had. I’ve always been perceptive, and even at the age of five, I knew he was just saying that but it didn’t matter. That’s all the encouragement I needed to keep cooking, and learning how I could make improvements too. Initially my mother was my mentor for cooking, but as I got older (around eight if I remember correctly) I started preparing meals on my own too. I remember making my first cake from scratch at eight years old. A few of my brothers and my school friends were over, and they eagerly wolfed down the food I prepared, declaring it a really good cake. I was so proud. It was probably one of the only girly things they knew I did, being a tomboy. I was always outside playing games with the boys.
Playing it forward, I’m doing the same thing with my daughter. Whatever she’s interested in, I encourage. She prepared her first meal at four years old. Instead of scrambled eggs, we made something I like to call Cali scramble. Yes, I veganized it, Cali is simply Cauliflower crumbled, marinated, and combined with a few other vegetables, spices, to make a truly delicious meal. After it’s prepared it does remind me of scrambled eggs, so the name has stuck. This is one of my daughters favorite breakfast dishes, so she asks for it often.
What I remember most about my childhood isn’t the amazing meals that my mother prepared, although they were great. I remember the constant encouragement I received, and even though my interests were different from my parents it didn’t stop them from being my #1 cheerleaders. Knowing the impact of positive encouragement, I do try to do the same with my daughter, and with those I interact with too.
Life’s too short for negativity, we need to quit tearing one another down. It’s easy to get along with those who think like you. How do you treat people who think differently than you politically, religiously, etc., If you can’t have a civil conversation with someone simply because their beliefs differ from yours, perhaps you need to rethink your approach?
What happened to the chickens?
Whatever happened to those Bantam chickens? Fortunately for them, they lived out their lives in peace and never made it to our dinner plate. After about five years, my parents stopped killing the animals they raised. My father was making more money (my mom was a stay at home mom) so we didn’t have to solely depend on the animals for food. I’m sure the pressure of myself and my brother’s unhappiness about killing our friends didn’t help either. I guess you could say those early lessons eventually put me onto the path of Veganism. Since I viewed poultry as pets too. We refused to eat the food, and I would cry during mealtimes when they landed on our plate. It’s kind of funny; I didn’t cry too much. I’m still like that to this day, but when it came to pets (and people) I have always had a big heart.
That first cooking lesson, stands out in my mind, and I remember as if it was yesterday.
Question: Do you remember any “first lessons” from your childhood? If so share in the comments or blog about it and link to here. I’ll pop by to check it out.
astic Spiral Vegetable Slicer
. When I converted to glass I initially was concerned about glass dishes around my then toddler. Seven years later, I still have the same storage containers, and have added a few more glass containers to the list too.
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