If you didn't already know, I really like to cook. I don't and can't claim to be a great foodie and connoisseur of all things edible, nor am I particularly gifted at making amazing meals. But the fact of the matter is: I like to cook. I like to feed people. I like to eat. I like being in the kitchen. I like see what happens if I do this and that, and if you have read any of my other food posts you'll know I don't ever follow recipes to the tee.
I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my Memere (not to be confused with my Meme), and let me tell you something -- that woman does know how to cook. And she always had a way for adding a little extra of this and a dab of that and tweaking just about every recipe she encountered. I love all the recipes she's handed down to me and they almost all contain notes written along the side with suggestions for alterations or substitutions and the like.
So why haven't I been cooking? I thought that being a stay at home mom would allow me to dive into the Art of French Cooking collection by Julia Child that Jacob gifted me, or dive into some other ethnic avenues than I have not yet explored. But the fact of the matter is, if I try to cook it usually ends up looking something like this:
Surrounded by the mess of the past five meals and a clingy and balding munchin on my left hip, I've started to just get frustrated with the kitchen. If I do manage to make anything, it's never done it one fell swoop. I really enjoyed toiling in the kitchen timing the meal just right in order to get it all together at once. Now I start chopping potatoes before noon in order to have some sort of dinner put together around six when Jacob comes home from class.
I realize this is no new revelation for any and everyone who has a child of their own. And if you read Kate's post, it's even more familiar if you're a working mom. Yes. Life changes. Get with the program. Sure. But I guess I'm just here to say that I miss the kitchen. I miss being able to go in, make something, then leave. Or better yet, go in, make something, clean up, then leave.
Having to clean the dishes that have accumulated from 2+ prior meals in order to make the present meal is just really discouraging and a sure fire way to smother any flame of inspiration you might have been tending. In fact, this week Jacob went to bed early (and I'm talking 8pm here) which meant the little snuggler named Sebastian didn't need momma to keep him asleep since Dad was there instead. That being said, I had the time of my life. I cleaned my kitchen. The entire thing. Top to bottom. I swear, my heart began to palpitate as I suddenly saw the counter tops emerge from under the food and grime of the past few ... not going there.
I'm hoping that after this apartment, whatever our future residence may be will allow me better luck at cleaning up the kitchen once the kiddo goes to sleep. Right now with the loft style apartment we're rockin', cleaning pots and pans and loading the dish washer just don't mesh with keeping a five month old asleep. Cue the dirty dishes!
And so, one day when Jacob is home all day and has no academic obligations, I'm going to ask him to take Sebastian so I can cook.
And cook uninterrupted.