Chef Daddy takes charge in kitchen

By Darci Jordan, Contributing Writer 5:53 PM Monday, November 23, 2009

Another holiday is looming and I am again thankful the responsibility of cooking the Thanksgiving meal is not mine.

Rachael Ray, I am not.

My three children will not grow up with fond memories of their mother cooking a delicious, juicy turkey – ever.

Sad, I know.

However, Daddy can cook up a mean bird – and just about anything else.

My lack of talent in the kitchen is well known, and my kids were quick to catch on.

At 6 p.m. in our house, the boys are asking Daddy, “So, what’s for dinner?”

I think he missed his calling as a gourmet chef, but he does act like one, shouting, “Bam!” and “Let’s kick it up a notch!” while something delectable sizzles on the stovetop.

“Cooking relaxes me,” he says while the boys watch in awe and now want to help him.

They have made pizza from scratch with Daddy and cookies — a la Pillsbury break apart dough — with Mommy.

Cooking has never been my forte.

I made biscuits and gravy for my dad and brother many years ago. I watched them gag down the meal, trying to subtly suggest that I had used too much baking powder — or was it baking soda? Salt?

My husband travels some for his job. Each time before he leaves, we go to the store to stock up on “simple” foods for the time he’s gone.

Having set the toaster oven on fire with taco shells, the rule is clear – no attempting anything remotely fancy for dinner while Daddy is gone.

I didn’t know tacos were considered fancy.

When doling out dinner as a single mom, the boys know better than to ask for a seasoned, slow-cooked ham on the grill.

“What do you guys want for dinner?”

“Pigs-in-a-blanket!”

“No! Macaroni and cheese!”

We eventually settle on a bowl of cereal.

I have mastered the art of packing school lunches and dishing out treats in moderation, but the thought of spending more than 30-minutes — OK, five — in the kitchen sends me right to the nearest Chinese take-out place.

Knowing this, Daddy returns from his trips ready to hit the kitchen and concoct a suitable meal for his charges.

Watching my husband slice, dice, mix and garnish makes my head spin. How does he know those things will taste good together?

The boys, ever mimicking Daddy, don their little cooking mits and miniature pots and pans, ever stirring up a new creation for us to “eat.”

Really their meals are quite creative – even if made of plastic.

Maybe one day Noah and Nick will make their wives as thankful as I am to be out of the kitchen this holiday season.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Contact this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com.

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