Into the Kitchen: Knife Skills and Life Skills

“Cooking is one of the great gifts you can give to those you love.”

Ina Garten

From the time my oldest son was big enough to sit on the kitchen island and hold a spoon he has been helping me in the kitchen. One of the first things we baked together was an almond biscotti. It was while watching him dump half the flour on the counter and add the almonds out of order that I realized I needed to reevaluate the picture-perfect baking experience I had conjured in my head. One where all ingredients are perfectly measured and mixed, the messes never happen, and the finished product is uniform and magazine worthy. Over the years I have managed to let go of that image of perfection, and instead embrace the mess and chaos that comes with letting the boys help me in the kitchen.

I have always loved to bake. I remember going through cookbooks while growing up and begging my mom to let me try the recipes that piqued my interest. The recipes I tried didn’t always turn out the way I had hoped, but some of them are recipes I still make to this day – I’m looking at you lemon pound cake. As I got older I imagined I would some day be sharing recipes and time in the kitchen with my own children, but I never imagined it would be two boys who would be standing beside me covered in flour dust.

As my oldest grew we added a kitchen stool to let him stand at the counter instead of sitting on it. For many years the stool was his favorite place to be whenever I was baking or cooking. We added kid-friendly nylon knives, aprons and chef hats,and his own cookbook of recipes. A few years ago we started watching The Great British Baking Show together and he asked me if we could make eclairs. How could I say no to a request for one-on-one time, and a delicious pastry? The eclairs looked nothing like the ones on the show, but the afternoon spent in the kitchen with a happy child who was building confidence was better than a picture-perfect eclair.

I have a tendency to like things a certain way in the kitchen. It’s probably the only aspect of my life that I can get very Type A personality about. My family knows that when I’m cooking or baking that their best bet for survival is to just steer clear and don’t offer to help. When I watch the boys spilling ingredients over the side of the bowl or pouring half a bottle of sprinkles onto a single sugar cookie I have to fight the urge to “fix” it. I have definitely gotten better about letting it bother me when it happens. Because I let them do most of the measuring and mixing themselves, and I’ve let them do it since they were big enough to hold the measuring spoon, they are confident in themselves when I ask them for help in the kitchen. It is hard to let go of the control and to let them make messes and mistakes – I’ve picked numerous eggshells from cookie dough – but the mistakes are how they are learning. And I want them to learn. I want them to learn more than cooking. I want them to learn to enjoy spending time with those they care about, to enjoy working hard at something even if it doesn’t turn out how you had imagined. More than anything, I want them to enjoy cooking and feeding their families. I want them to be able to know their way around a kitchen and to be able to cook with confidence.

If you are familiar with the book The Five Love Languages you know that the author groups people into five basic ways of expressing love for one another. These are: physical touch, quality time, words of affirmation, acts of service, and receiving gifts. I think I have a tendency to express my love for others in a sixth group – the language of food. Specifically cooking for others. I enjoy making food for those I care about. Sometimes that means making dinner for a friend who is sick or has just had a baby, sometimes it means sending care packages and holiday goodies, and other times it’s sending someone a recipe I think they might like. If you have been on the receiving end of I want you to know that it was done with love, a way for me to show that I care about and appreciate you.

A few days ago we celebrated Thanksgiving, and I’ll admit that leading up to it I was not feeling very festive. We had been lucky to have the entire week off of school while we were living in Kansas and had spent the last few Thanksgivings in Tennessee with my parents. This year we decided that the drive would not be worth the two days we would get to spend there, so we stayed here and had dinner with just the four of us. On Wednesday morning I woke up knowing I would be spending most of the day in the kitchen getting things ready. I needed to bake the pies, prep the ingredients for stuffing, bake the sweet potatoes, and finish a few other odds and ends. After breakfast I turned on a movie for the boys and told them if they needed me I would be in the kitchen cooking for Thanksgiving. And that’s when my oldest popped up off the couch and announced he was ready to help. The youngest couldn’t be left out so he followed suit.

At first I wasn’t sure if I actually wanted their help since my to-do list was quite long and their help was usually filled with me having to slow down what I was working on. I decided it was time to really let go of my expectations and control in the kitchen. And you know what? It turned out to be one of the best days we have had in a long time. We donned our aprons and got started. I put on some Christmas music and the kitchen was soon filled with happy chattering and the smells of pumpkin pie. I let them mix and pour the corn pudding and chop the mushrooms for the stuffing. While I made the pie crust I gave them the recipe for the pumpkin pie filling, piled all of the ingredients on the counter, and let them go. I resisted the urge to supervise them or to double check everything before they dumped it into the bowl. I simply let them cook.

As the day went on we took snack breaks and watched a movie, but they kept asking when it was time to help cook again. My oldest told me that he wants us to bake pies and do Thanksgiving cooking together every year and that someday he wants to teach his own kids how to cook. Pumpkin pie has never been my favorite, but this year it tasted better than any other I have tried – because my children made it, and they made it with love.