I have to say, I’m feeling very domesticated at this moment: I just unloaded the dishwasher, both the washer and dryer are running and I made coffee. Then I tried to make an omelet. Those were some great scrambled eggs. Never fails.
Yesterday I visited with my grandparents. My parents are out of town and I am almost sick of frozen pizza, so I decided to invite myself over to Grandma’s (always acceptable). I knew that she needed help with some things around the house and I would do just about anything for a home-cooked meal at that point. And I love my grandparents. Which brings up something else.
If you have the option of visiting with your grandparents, take advantage of that. They aren’t usually around for very long; something I know a lot of people have experienced, including yours truly. Not only are they full of wisdom and chivalry, but you will learn more from an afternoon with your grandparents than a year with anyone else. Your grandparents love you differently than anyone in your family and it’s one of the most beautiful loves I have seen. That being said, if there is one goddess I know that has all the laws of domestication down perfectly, it would be my grandmother. She passed them to my mother, who is a modern-day Martha and my sister, who could teach Bobby Flay a thing or two…. and… yeah, I’m still working on it.
I don’t want anyone to think that my greatest desire in life is to become a June Cleaver; filling my days with needlepoint and cake decorating and attending weddings in my spare time. If there is anything in life I wish never to become, it is a housewife. I have basically come to terms with the fact that I will never be married, due to my horrid cooking skills. That’s fine. But when a smashdown (I’ll explain later) becomes your main food staple, there is a problem. The amount of clumsiness that fills my everyday life is slightly overwhelming. It’s a work in progress.
So. My grandma.
This professional seamstress had dinner on the table at six when Gramps got home from work. By the time I was ready to help her with the dishes, they were done. I was in awe. She knows what’s up. Thanks to her 50 years of practice, she has mastered her abilities. She raised five children, ran a Bed & Breakfast and can sew anything and everything you ask her to.
Not to mention she makes a mean pot roast and knows how to take her coffee: in the right mug.
Smashdown
A grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwich, not a wrestling move.
Step One: make a pb&j
Step Two: spread butter on one side
Step Three: cook buttered side in pan on stove
Step Four: spread butter on up-facing side
Step Five: flip
Step Six: using the spatula, smash the sandwich as much as possible. This step is optional, but it's where the name came from, so it's recommended.
Step Seven: you can eat it now, but it will be very hot.
Cooking by Audrey. Welcome to my world.
