Tales out of school…from the kitchen….

My sweet daughter gets home Friday for spring break…..”my last spring break “, she says mournfully….she graduates this year, so it is indeed,  the “last” spring break. And there are no great trips this year…in the past couple of years we have traveled en famille to Charleston, which I’ve written about here before….. Let me just say….I love that week, that we are all together in that lovely city. Love it. Great food, lots of fun…but let’s be honest, it is also a lot of money. Even if you’re cooking a lot, and we do, we eat out a couple of dinners, and with the house rental, food, blah, blah, travel…..it’s just a lot, you know?

So this year Cada and I are gonna Megabus it up to New York for two nights….we found a pretty inexpensive place to stay on a website I’ve never seen before…Antique Cafe B & B….rents apartments in the Chelsea/Greenwich Village/Sohoarea. And they’re renting them for quite a bit  less than the prices on the website. But for the same money as a hotel room, you get a one bedroom apartment…cute…wifi, flat screen tv, tiny kitchenette(NY style) with a separate living room. Looks nice, so I’ll let you know how it goes. It might be a real find, to have a little more room than a small hotel room. Especially with a daughter who likes to stay up LATE.

 Another time, and this one much more memorable, I asked her to put a roast in the frig, in the oven, for dinner that night. “Put it in about 4:00, and at 350 degrees, ok? Just salt and pepper it a little…. thanks sweetie “, says me.  She calls me about 4:30…”Mom, the roast is really smoking in the oven..” I assured her that sometimes meat did that when it is roasting, but she said “No I mean REALLY a lot of smoke is coming from the oven!” I asked her could she tell what the source of the smoke was…and she replied…”It’s coming from the stuff dripping onto the bottom of the oven!!”  That’s correct….she had not put the roast ON A PAN!  My girl. But as she pointed out, “You didn’t say to put it on a pan…you just said put it in the oven!”……..and that’s exactly what she did.

The perfect roasted chicken....a thing of glory...

The perfect roasted chicken....a thing of glory...

Otherwise, I’ll probably have my girl do some shopping and cooking for me next week…but I’ve learned to be quite specific with my instructions, after a few culinary mishaps. Once, I sent her to the store to get a small, whole chicken(a perfectly roasted chicken is one of the best things in the world). “Not one of the huge oven-stuffer chicken…the smallest chicken you can find.” She returned with….a turkey breast. She had mistaken it for…. a small chicken. My baby girl.


3 Responses

  1. Ah, Donna, brings a smile to my face as I remember my sisters and I having to cook dinner for our family because both of our parents worked. Imagine my parents’ faces as one is getting off the bus in front of the house, the other getting out of their rides car in the back … as the fireman are charging into our home to put out a stove fire. You see, on a rare occasion we had steak for dinner. My sister knew they were to be broiled but that pan had holes in it – so she switched out the holie pan for a backing dish – hence the grease fire – I still LAUGH out loud whenever we remember or talk about this event (and others from our childhood of learning how to cook or not). I enjoy your column – keep it coming

  2. We have three children, (23, 20 and 16). I’m an old dad,( 59), and have been mistaken for the youngest’s grandfather. The days are precious and as they get older, I keep forgetting everything that they did ‘wrong’. You’ll see ,sweetheart, as you get older. Just the fact that they choose to spend time with me is a gift.

  3. I’m an ‘old’ dad. My youngest is a great 16 year old son and I am 59. At one time, in middle school, I was mistaken for his grandfather.
    He is my best friend and a great help. We tease and kid a lot but he knows how much I love him. Our other two are 23 and 20. The older they get, the more that I forget any ‘mistakes’ that they made along the way. I am very glad when they choose to spend time with ‘old’ dad. We only have a short time. My best, Donna!

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