I have a NEW idea for a cooking show!!
I am soooo over the cooking shows and videos where a well-groomed, fashionably dressed, totally put together chef with a flawless haircut, great voice, perfect lighting, and a killer cameraman are demonstrating the simplicity of a recipe while in the sterile, serene environment of a kidless kitchen (no “helpers”).
I want MY chef to be a mom, in a disheveled kitchen, full of already dirty dishes and sippy cups, wiping off the counter (what even WAS that?) so she will have a cleared spot to start the culinary preparations.
Mommy is now scrambling to find a clean measuring spoon while holding a screaming, snotty one year old and dancing around kids who are fighting in the middle of the kitchen over who is going to lick the bowl…
“Take that somewhere else!!!”
Back to business…then side-stepping around the cat (we don’t have a dog) to get to the fridge for milk, only to turn around and run smack into a kid who is ALREADY licking the bowl as the stand mixer beaters go round and round. Mommy hurries to stop THAT emergency room visit from happening (no time for that) while splashing milk (we don’t cry over spilled milk…we mumble under our breath because we haven’t even finished a cup of coffee)…
Where was I?
Ok, the spilled milk is cleaned up, not quite the right amount of milk has been re-poured into the measuring cup…
hmmm…chef mommy needs more milk…
“SOMEONE, PLEASE COME IN HERE AND WRITE MILK ON THE GROCERY LIST!!!”
I DON’T KNOW WHERE THE LIST IS…START A NEW ONE.”
…milk is added to the bowl, the stand mixer has done its job (I LOVE THAT THING), and now to scoop the newly created concoction into a pan. Trying to insert food into the oven with a baby in one hand and a pan in the other is difficult so chef mommy puts the baby down. Said baby does not want to be put down so she is grabbing mommy’s pant leg. Try. To. Wiggle. Loose… AND skirt around yet another kid, the pan gets sloshed into the oven…
That’s going to smell later.
Oh, sheesh, the cat is on the stove…aaanndd licking out of the bowl.
The pan is in the oven and just in time because someone is hollering from the bathroom. They need, ummm…help. You know THAT dilemma.
On the way to the bathroom, she is dragging the still crying little one, mommy quickly hollers into the den at the loud screams, shrieks, and clearly audible fighting.
“Knock it off or you don’t get to lick the bowl!!!”
Back to the kitchen…hands washed…of course…
There they all stand. Absolutely, the only words that they have heard all morning and responded quickly too are “lick the bowl.”
The cat’s already had her turn.
Four little eyes demand the oven light on because we all know that watching food bake is what ACTUALLY makes it rise.
THEN, when the timer sounds, the newly created culinary masterpiece gets slopped onto a plate with no style, grace, beauty, or perfection, and served up to ungrateful kids who just want some ketchup or ranch or whatever.
Chow time is complete (took literally 4 minutes and 29 seconds). Chef mom now puts on her maid apron and gets to scraping and sweeping bits of her delectable dish off the floor. Next, on to tackle the sink that is overflowing with culinary equipment…dirty dishes.
“Now, what did I do with that coffee?”
That, THAT is a cooking show I could get behind.
Don’t forget, arguing with a 3-year-old the whole time about, well, pretty much any and everything.
BTW…we had blueberry muffins. This whole experience was based on preparing blueberry muffins with my kids. According to the recipe, they are “to die for” and I believe it.