Can your Mother cook?

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My mother thinks she can cook but by most of our standards here she cant.

She knows how to make a few dishes but that is it. She would not be up to making an Italian pasta sauce, a Thai curry, any type of soup...

Mel:)
 
well, welcome to my generation raised on Chef Boy Ar Dee spaghetti and pizza......soup was from a Campbell's soup can but it was good unless my mom forced you to eat the tomatoey stuff....yechh.........that only happened onces...same with the liver....only once.....she made us sit there for a long time only once..........I guess she had to make a point....yep, you dumped it on your sister's plate or bowl when she wasn't looking.....I know--wrong lesson learned....anyway .....I really can't think of anything that she made that was especially tasty and that's long before convenience stores, fast food, pizza delivery, jars of pasta sauce in all different kinds of varieties. She was brilliant in other areas......she skipped two grades when she was in school and set high standards for us and worked with us on homework.........
 
My mom is a great cook, and my sister and brother followed in her footsteps. My brother does all the cooking in his house. My sister is so good, she can go to a restaurant, taste a dish, and come up with all the ingredients. I've seen her amaze waiters.

I'm an ok cook; my kids think I'm terrific, but that's because they don't know any better. (Don't tell them I said that!)

The next generation is good too... my sister's eldest, my brother's eldest, and my eldest are all great cooks. What do you think that means?
 
My mother was a basic cook and used the original Betty Crocker Cookbook as her guide. She was extremely particular about what she cooked so that it didn't "mess" up her stove or kitchen. She nearly shuddered when my daddy asked for fried eggs on Sunday mornings. That meant she'd have to wipe splatters off the stovetop. We also rarely had any type of roast that would splatter/spit in the oven. Her broiled steaks were bovine hockey pucks.

When she realized that, at age 8, I could cook, she quit cooking and left it to me. I began with her old Betty Crocker book and added others of my own as time went on. She did have a recipe file, but wouldn't allow anyone to copy any of her recipes. Although, I do remember in a fit of defiance, one day while she was gone, I thumbed through the file and copied a handful of things I remembered liking. I have no clue where that recipe file went.

I've been enjoying everyone's fond "mother's cooking" posts. I'll live vicariously through them, since I don't have warm fuzzy childhood or adult memories of that.
 
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