The cooking lesson
I'm terrible at teaching. This whole Mom thing where you're supposed to be a model of commitment and patience, not worrying about whether something is done right if you can shape a little mind while it's happening, give a boy a fish kind of sentiment absolutely does not come naturally to me.
But I want them to know their way around a kitchen. Maybe even to cook well. Eventually. Feeding people is one of my passions and spiritual gifts, and what a waste it would be to not involve my kiddos.
We made this. Out of an abundance of garden zucchini, the recipe's stellar ratings and milk-free-ness, and because I supplied yesterday's breakfast cafe fare at church.
Side note that we did 2/3 c vegetable oil and 1/3 c unsweetened applesauce in place of the 1 c oil, 1 c brown sugar and 1 1/4 c white sugar in place of the 2 1/4 c white sugar, and omitted the walnuts.
It took probably three times longer than it would have otherwise, and made at least three times the mess.
But.
It was fun. They both understand some basic recipe jargon and have an idea how to measure. Oh the competition over who could grate zucchini best. And apparently I have long taken for granted how fascinating it really is to measure flour. Of course then, the inevitable fight over the sifter, followed quickly by a white haze hanging over the kitchen. Eggs, er, not our best moment. Their personalities are not yet suited to the patience and delicate touch required for cooking-related egg-breakage.
Notice in the background how Aden so politely offered to "take care of the rest of the applesauce".
Why?
Because they are picky and hard-headed and refused to try something that their own hands had made. Insert frustrated growl here. But I didn't want them to associate cooking with a guilt trip, so Iscarfed down another slice so I wouldn't talk held my tongue.
Stubborn, precious little chefs.
(Aden did end up trying it a day later, declared it the best thing he's ever had, and requested that we make another batch before the current one runs out.)
But I want them to know their way around a kitchen. Maybe even to cook well. Eventually. Feeding people is one of my passions and spiritual gifts, and what a waste it would be to not involve my kiddos.
We made this. Out of an abundance of garden zucchini, the recipe's stellar ratings and milk-free-ness, and because I supplied yesterday's breakfast cafe fare at church.
Side note that we did 2/3 c vegetable oil and 1/3 c unsweetened applesauce in place of the 1 c oil, 1 c brown sugar and 1 1/4 c white sugar in place of the 2 1/4 c white sugar, and omitted the walnuts.
It took probably three times longer than it would have otherwise, and made at least three times the mess.
But.
It was fun. They both understand some basic recipe jargon and have an idea how to measure. Oh the competition over who could grate zucchini best. And apparently I have long taken for granted how fascinating it really is to measure flour. Of course then, the inevitable fight over the sifter, followed quickly by a white haze hanging over the kitchen. Eggs, er, not our best moment. Their personalities are not yet suited to the patience and delicate touch required for cooking-related egg-breakage.
Why?
Because they are picky and hard-headed and refused to try something that their own hands had made. Insert frustrated growl here. But I didn't want them to associate cooking with a guilt trip, so I
Stubborn, precious little chefs.
(Aden did end up trying it a day later, declared it the best thing he's ever had, and requested that we make another batch before the current one runs out.)
Comments