In this, the modern age, we pretty much all have to cook unless we have plenty of disposable income for takeout. It doesn’t matter whether you’re a dude or a lady, kitchen skills are mostly indispensable nowadays, even if you can only make a few simple dishes. Most of the folks I know are youngish and single. All of them can cook something and most of them can cook rather well.
Which is why I’m stymied by the Betty Crocker Bridal Edition cookbook. Not that I don’t love Betty. I am particularly fond of her saucy 1986 visage. But to me a bridal cookbook conjures up images of very young brides who are leaving the sanctuary of their parents’ homes to enter into marriage with a man equally young and inexperienced. It just strikes me as odd and anachronistic. If someone gave me this book as a shower gift, it would join the ranks of the many culinary tomes The Beard and I reference when cooking.
Of course, its name does not change the fact that it has more than one thousand tried and tested Betty Crocker recipes and entire sections devoted to kitchen organization and cooking for guests. You can’t beat that!
That said, I thought I’d share an oldie but goodie by an unknown author entitled “A New Brides Cooking Diary.” Oh, how times have changed.
Monday: It’s fun to cook for Bob. Today I made angel food cake. The recipe said beat 12 eggs separately. The neighbors were nice enough to loan me some extra bowls.
Tuesday: Bob wanted fruit salad for supper. The recipe said serve without dressing. So I didn’t dress. What a surprise when Bob brought a friend home for supper.
Wednesday: A good day for rice. The recipe said wash thoroughly before steaming the rice. It seemed kinda silly but I took a bath. I can’t say it improved the rice any.
Thursday: Today Bob asked for salad again. I tried a new recipe. It said prepare ingredients, then toss on a bed of lettuce an hour before serving. Which is what led up to Bob asking me why I was rolling around in the garden.
Friday: I found an easy recipe for cookies. It said put all the ingredients in a bowl and beat it. There must have been something wrong with this recipe. When I got back, everything was the same as when I left.
Saturday: Bob did the shopping today and brought home a chicken. He asked me to dress it for Sunday (oh boy). For some reason Bob keeps counting to ten.
Sunday: Bob’s folks came to dinner. I wanted to serve roast. All I could find was hamburger. Suddenly I had a flash of genius. I put hamburger in the oven and set the controls to roast. It still came out hamburger, much to my disappointment.