The First Thing I Ever Cooked

Although my mother says I was a precocious egg cracker, I don't recall anything specific that I cooked or helped cook before we moved to Salinas. I have brief flashes of eating raw bread dough from my mother's fingers, and the fact that she took her rings off before kneading.

My mother used to make a "Cinnamon Bubble Ring" from the red and white checked Better Homes and Gardens cookbook, which was about as close to heaven as a person can get, smell-wise: sweet, warm yeast bread, cinnamon and sugar. On one occasion, she made it for a Tupperware party, or some similar gathering, and the family dog snatched it off the coffee table and made a run for it just as the company was arriving. My mother did what any other hard-working hostess would do-- she chased the dog out into the field, retrieved the ring mostly intact, washed off the doggy bits and, I imagine, dusted it with cinnamon sugar. Here is a photo of me with the thief.

I would have liked to include another photo, one of me in my apron and potholders at about four years of age, but my sister is currently holding the family photo albums hostage. My sister and I used to mix up horrid concoctions in the kitchen when we were unsupervised. She was the one who discovered that salsa and tomato products clean copper pennies. Below is a photo of both of us. In it she is being restrained because she has a peculiar fondness for cat food. Her first word was "meow". Our palates were clearly inherited from different family members. But I digress.

I remember watching The Galloping Gourmet, and Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. The first thing I ever remember cooking was a recipe Mr. Rogers featured for sauteed bananas with butter and cinnamon sugar. Mr. McFeely and a mysterious Spanish woman were involved. I made that recipe. The Galloping Gourmet showed a dish of zucchini or eggplant stuffed with a spiced ground lamb and rice mixture. I also attempted that. Not quite as successful, at least to my 6-year-old palate. If I remember correctly, the rice was underdone, and the lamb had too strong a flavor. How many elementary schoolers know how to properly cook rice? But even then, I think I realized that cooking was empowering, in a way. Decoding a secret, scientific language of ingredients and turning it into something that people would eat and like.

Later, ZOOM (does anyone else know the tones of the WGBH Boston station identifier by heart?) showed how to make "Stained Glass" cookies with broken lifesavers, and also offered a recipe for authentic pretzels. I excitedly wrote away for both recipes, and made those, too.

In junior high, much of my chubbiness can probably be attributed to after school omelettes with two-color cheese, which I made and devoured regularly. In high school, I baked a buche de noel. (Sorry again for the lack of proper French punctuation.) There was also the senior year incident of the Boeuf Bourguignon and the Alcoholic Fruit Loop Crepes, but that is a story for another time. ;-)