My Grantie's cooking adventures. Or lack thereof.

 

My Grantie's cooking adventures. Or lack thereof.

6 April 2024

Aaaaahhh! My Grantie and cooking. He does so love to try out a new recipe. Quite the budding chef, I tell you.

 

So pray tell, how does his "trying-out-new-recipe-cooking-adventures" go? To be honest, rather well actually. As he doesn't cook them.

 

He masterfully peruses the world wide web. And finds a delectable dish that he's absolutely dying to try out!

 

We're all informed of this rather loudly. He heralds it, if you like.

 

It starts off with a proclamation - "I'm making supper tonight. I want to try something new and different. And I've found this awesome recipe. It looks really easy". It is fair to point out at this juncture, that there’s no purpose in wasting a good heralding, without ensuring that you’ve got an audience. So he does like to guarantee that we’re all assembled in the same vicinity.

 

This is known as Phase One. We've seen this pattern repeated often before. At this stage, the kids and I share looks. Amber always sniggers. Not even pretending to hide her mirth. Sometimes out of earshot (though also sometimes intentionally within earshot) she'll mutter something along the lines of, "We all know what that means".

 

Phase Two of his culinary master plan is to head off to the shops to buy the ingredients. Occasionally he gets all of the necessary ingredients. However, this is not guaranteed. Probably mostly because he doesn’t always make a list, but rather just peruses the recipe on his phone, whilst doing the shopping.

 

Then for the duration of the day, he speaks about this endeavour. Much planning involved of when he should start with his preparations. And beautiful visions of how good the end result will be. As well as  proclamations of his culinary brilliance.

 

During Phase Three he goes over into action. Ingredients and cooking utensils are assembled. And to be fair, he does really try. Prepping ensues with lots of concentration, attention to detail and dedication to his task.

 

The real problem, seems to always lie in Phase Four. Namely the effective execution of his cooking adventure. It mostly starts off really well with great gusto and eager enthusiasm. But invariably, he hits a proverbial snag. And becomes stumped.

 

Maybe it's the monotony of reading a recipe over and over again, trying to decipher what it all really means. Interpretation can apparently vary greatly. And I can't really blame him. I can so identify. Which is possibly why I'm less adventurous in the kitchen. I suppose I do have quite a vast and tasty repertoire (At least I’d like to think so. Everyone eats what I prepare and dish up. There’s a chance they’re fearful of not liking it. Who can tell?). And fairly often, I add to my collection of dishes. But somehow new recipes are often tricky, labour intensive and generally demand a greater investment of time. This is properly proportionate to the reason why they are so delicious in the first place. Ingredients are no doubt more exotic. Techniques are sometimes different. Spices and flavouring unusual and unique. But there is without a doubt an element of complexity.

 

Which leads us right up to Phase Five. This phase is more often than not announced with a, "Babes can you quickly help me please".

 

And how can I deny him? His recipes are always nice. The intentions are so pure, albeit that they're mostly aimed at his stomach. And he's usually done lots of the legwork by this stage.

 

And thus, I sweep in. And somehow, he conveniently disappears.

 

But I know this. It's part of our dance. So I'll cook the meal. Actually happy to make something new. Ever hopeful that I'll be able to add it to my cooking arsenal in the future.

 

It's usually absolutely awesome! And we're all thrilled with the end result.

 

And then follows Phase Six. Now this is the bit where My Grantie asks us if we all enjoyed the new recipe he cooked for us. Which leads to lots of ribbing, teasing, comments and laughter. He always says this with such confidence and glee. Delighted with his mastery. Even gloating if you like, with an evil glint in his eyes.

 

Finally he follows this up with Phase Seven. Where My Grantie makes me a delicious cup of coffee. Thanking me and praising me for my efforts. Ensuring that I'll help him again next time.

 

He's a very, very clever man. Can't fault his logic, devious scheming or dedication to his craft.

 

The end justifies the means. And we all win.

 

In other news, he's cooking supper tonight.

 

Now in the interest of full disclosure, I must amend the statement above. Cause here’s the thing. Since I wrote this blog yesterday afternoon, it’s only fair that I give an update as to last night’s cooking plan.

 

Cause yesterday morning My Grantie phoned me, to let me know that he had a wonderful idea for supper. Moreover, he’d already gone to the shops and had bought all of the ingredients. He also informed that he would start preparing the chicken so long. Dicing and marinading and getting everything at the ready.

 

I left home at about 4pm yesterday afternoon and only got back again, close to 7pm. So perhaps I was foolish in assuming that he’d be preparing the meal. You know, the meal he conceived of and shopped for. Imagine my surprise when I got home just before 7pm and the kitchen was pristine. I foolishly asked him if he’d already prepared supper and had he packed it away somewhere, as there were no telltale delicious smells either.

 

And he looked at me as if I’d grown another head. “I never said I’m making the supper. I thought you would”.

 

Speechless. Alas, lots of the prep had been done. It didn’t take too long. And it was very yummy indeed. So much so, that both of the boys and My Grantie had some for leftover lunch today. So who’s the real winner here?

 

My Grantie. Well played, Baby. Well played.