anne cann cook

I was just recalling some of my moments when I was younger and couldn't help at how far along I've changed. Especially at cooking.

I was never a fan of cooking when I was younger and whenever I dabble in the kitchen was just because I would like to please my grandmother (who's a very good cook) and mock my mom (who isn't). Everytime there's a good result at "Upside Down Cake" (that's the actual name by the way), my grandma would praise me and boasted it to my mom. I was about 10 then, but even then I knew that my grandma was just trying to make me feel good. And even then I knew that it's only a trick. Hello... my job was only to put the pineapple on the batch and let it simmer. As gullible as I was, I still knew that it was a miniscule task from the real cake baking process. But I felt good anyway. I can't remember how to make it now... Perhaps it's time to ask my grandma again and this time I will attempt it myself.

As I grew older there's another incident where I have so semi show my prowess in the kitchen. Well with the help of McDonalds, to be precise. That time I was involved in this annual high school Valentine lunch. I was partnering with my buddy Rachel Gibbs and we're supposed to draw lot on who are we going to "double date". We got Scott Stricker and... I forgot who the other guy was. I think it was Jason Scheidler. The menu was one of my proud batch of egg fried rice. Now, I was not really considering that it's going to be in the morning and then plain ol' egg fried rice would be so boring and ugly looking without any meat. Hence the trick of buying chicken strips from faithful McD. I told Rachel to be in charge of the drinks. Now, I discounted the chance of McD having Chicken Strips for breakfast menu. So frantically and panically I tried to perfect my colorless fried rice. The menu managed to be presented to our "lucky" dates. But I wonder what would they think of it. I can only think back in embarassment. The good thing was that both Scott and Jason are wonderful gentlemen and they didn't show any disappointment toward our presentation. Believe me, our presentation was sad. Other had nachos or some other Mac and Cheese with coleslaw, other wonderful trimmings and decos. Some were of course either bought or their moms homemade menus. Me, in my attempt to show my limited culinary expertise, failed to remember that we also need embelishment in our presentation. I didn't manage my menus well. The next day it was our turn to be dined by the guys who picked our names from the hat. I just remember that they did well, I was full and entertained. Now the thing is, I couldn't even remember who our dates were. Not because they failed to entertained us, but because my embarassment from the previous day left a bigger imprint on my ego :P

A few months before I'm married to Jon, I attempted to cook for my family. For some reason my mom shouted her faith that I am a good cook. And so, encouraged by her affirmation, I strolled to the kitchen and started making my own lunch concoction. Again, I crashed and burned. At that time, my sister's boyfriend was also around and he's quite a culinary gem. He tasted my cooking and politely ate them in silent and my mom started making a fuss about how the food was a bit too salty. I tasted it and it seriously terrible. I told everybody to eat other things (luckily my dad bought quite a number of dishes from his trip to his bank). My youngest sister tried to show her loyalty to me by saying, "It's really good, sis. I can still eat this," and forcing herself to take more of my dish, although she scrapped bits and pieces to make it more edible.

And so as I entered my marriage, for some reason, I got a feeling that my hubby Jon is the kind that would like to be impressed in this particular department. And so with another attempt, I started my battle in the kitchen and started cooking for him. That first moment when I was done tasting my cooking, I was quite surprised that it's actually nice. And the moment my husband praises me for it, really makes my day. Now I can say that I quite know how to survive in the kitchen and became one of my destressing activities, no matter how tired I am. One dish after another, I saw the satisfaction from my husband and I felt very happy. I am still not a culinary expert, but for some reason, I like how my mom claims about me, "Anne got a 'tasty' hand..." (although I have not make any successful attempt at that moment). I managed to soothe my grandma's concern about me. She once complained to my mom and aunts, "That girl... Never helped in the kitchen... What would she feed her husband?"

Don't worry, grandma... Anne Can Cook... Now!