I’ve an idea. Teach the basics. I spent my life savings to go to cooking school, Peter Kump’s at the time and now ICE. I left college and a corporate career 30 years ago to really learn how to cook, then I became a consultant and was granted a 40th birthday gift to Regello, Italy, for a week to learn more about Italian cooking.
Have shows on how to shop the outer aisles, forget the chips and get flour and make your own pasta. How to choose cheeses. What produce is fresh and hopefully produced locally?
French cooking has a lot of mother sauces. They were created to mask rotting meat. The best Italian food is making the most of spectacular ingredients and not messing it up. My mind is free. It took thousands of dollars and lire to come to this conclusion.
Mama, don’t let your baby become a chef. A cook, OK. No chuck wagons.
Yes, you can buy tea, coffee, rice et al in the inner aisles, along with broth if you wish.
Teach techniques, not recipes. For every couple that marries I buy them an out of print James Beard classic, Theory and Practice of Good Cooking. All of these fake, let’s use Valentines Day as a theme, local cooking classes are just that. If it is just a dating site, make it so. You learn how to make chocolates. Is Romeo ready to take the plunge? Just learn how to cook. Teach him. Work together. See if Junior likes your cooking.
My father always said that all we talked about was the next meal during reunions. That’s because we are female and had to make the lunch or dinner so talked about the different foods we’ve loved.
I saved a meat loaf I made last weekend in the freezer to make my husband a meat loaf sandwich. Eggs and bacon and bread are here and I’ll work on the rest after he arrives, late, and maybe in the morning he’ll tell me what he ate all week. I try to do homey, healthy things for him that he doesn’t get in a restaurant or room service. That might be another clue to a show. I know we’re not in the mainstream, but we are in the midwest and I watch you. Cheers from the Feminist Homemaker, Dee