By Laurel Nadon
Cooking classes, round two
I had decided that it was time–time for all of my kids to have a chance in the kitchen, learning how to make meals on their own. First, we would need some rules for Mom’s cooking classes. We have tried to cook together before, but without a proper set of guidelines, it was quickly dropped.
Rule number one: one kid will cook with me at a time. My husband is a foreman and has noted that I am not a good foreman. I get flustered if I get asked too many questions, while I’m trying to do something.
Rule number two, as requested by the kids: we will play music while cooking. This goes well, other than they all agree that Dad’s playlist is better than mine. With mine, you never know when a Cat Stevens or Neil Young song will come on (old man music as they call it), mixed in with pop songs. If they are lucky and dad is home, we can listen to his music on our little Bluetooth speaker.
Rule number three: Gum is provided so there is no crying while cutting onions, whether or not onions are involved in the preparation of the meal. The gum of choice is Doublemint, also the gum that we use whenever we fly.
Rule number four: I do the “easy” stuff–peeling vegetables and making a salad, while talking them through the more difficult aspects of cooking–the meat, noodles or rice. I also like to talk about how part of cooking is having everything done at the same time; which meats are allowed to have pink on them when they’re done; how leftover night is the best, so always make double what you need.
Rule number five: we will track the meals they make on a piece of paper and, once all three kids achieve five meals, they will get a treat. Surprisingly, they didn’t ask what kind of treat before agreeing to the terms, though it will likely be something sugary and delicious.
Rule number six: the kids can give input into what meals they want to make, though I often plan out the meals for the week, and then ask who wants to help with what.
Rule number seven: they have to stay until the meal is served onto the table, no getting things started and then disappearing. We clean up the kitchen while we cook, and the final steps are calling everyone to the table and making sure that the stove top and oven have been turned off.
After about a month, the kids have each completed three or four meals. They have made perogies and sausages, sloppy joes, tuna casserole, French toast casserole, macaroni, beans and wieners, meatballs with noodles and a salad, salmon and rice, and spaghetti. Stunningly, there is almost no complaining–other than when I forget to start the music. They want to make sure their siblings have done a comparable amount so they all finish five meals around the same time. (I haven’t mentioned that once five meals per kid are complete, we will start again.)
I asked my 13-year-old what we should cook next and he said Corn Flake Chicken; the recipe for this is found in a cookbook I received from my paternal grandparents. I wrote about this cookbook briefly for a column a year ago, when I was compiling a new family cookbook. It is the Better Homes and Gardens New Junior Cook Book, with this inscription on the first page: “To our dear Laurel on her 8th birthday, from Grandma and Grandpa. We hope you’ll always enjoy using this Cook Book.”
A funny part about our cooking classes is that I don’t even like cooking. Baking, yes. Cooking has an element of survival to me, as in “if we don’t do this, we will die.” Still, somehow the practical, thoughtful gift of a cookbook from my grandparents has become a keepsake possession.
An interesting part about the one kid at a time rule is that it opens up this space for one-on-one time with me. We can talk about their classmates, what’s happening in their school, sports, the world, plans for the summer. We tease each other, we laugh, we reminisce about past holidays. Cooking together is proving to be very entertaining.
