Cooking Up Some Date Bait

Pam: My mom was the worst cook since the invention of fire. Let me tell ya, when she went into the kitchen to cook, the onions started to cry.

Ann: But you can cook. How’d that happen?

Pam: I had to learn, or starve to death! But don’t be fooled, I have been known to blacken a few dinners in my time.

Ann: Hey, what you do is called burning. To “blacken” takes a professional.

Pam: Very funny, but I come by it honestly. Nothing my mom made even looked like it was supposed to. Her meat was gray, her gelatin molds were just thick liquid in the bottom of the bowl, and her mashed potatoes were actually stringy.

Ann: I’ve heard of lumpy, but stringy?


Pam: Don’t ask! And worst of all she put saccharin in everything. Remember before they had powdered saccharin? They had those tiny little saccharin tablets. She would crush ‘em up to use anywhere a recipe called for sugar. You’d be eating and suddenly bite into a chunk of one of those things and the salivary glands under your tongue would go into spasms from the tart sweetness. It was the worst.

Ann: I was lucky. My sister and I actually used my mom’s great cooking as date bait. I guess it’s true that the way to a guy’s heart really is through his stomach.

Pam: You’re just lucky they didn’t fall in love with your mother instead of you.

Ann: Yeah, but it would have been nice to go out to dinner once in a while.

Pam: My mom’s cooking was helpful in my relationships too. Whenever I wanted to end it with a guy, all I had to do was bring him home for dinner. I never saw him again.

Ann: Do ya think our meals are “bait-worthy”? Do your kids like it when you cook?

Pam: They like it when I cook but not necessarily what I cook. Ross is my carnivore. If I make just spinach casserole or a fruit salad, he’ll say he didn’t climb to the top of the food chain to eat vegetables.

Ann: You should hand him a club and tell him not to come back with anything less than a saber tooth tiger. And when he does, make him grill it up himself.

Pam: Don’t laugh. My kids are actually both pretty good cooks when they’re in the mood. But most of the time they’re not in the mood.

Ann: What do they say “Not tonight mom, I’ve got a headache.”?

Pam: That line never works for anyone.

The kids were home for spring break and Kate was complaining that there was absolutely nothing to eat in the house. I knew it wasn’t true because I’d made a trip to the grocery store to stock up just before they arrived. I told her to check the pantry. She opened the door and stood in front of it and actually told me, “There’s nothing to eat. All we have is ingredients!”

Ann: Did you remind her that if you mix them together, they miraculously become a meal?

Pam: Sure. But I'm supposed to be the miracle worker. How about your kids? They ever cook?

Ann: Well Troy gives it a try once in a while. But his idea of cooking is--if at first you don’t succeed, order pizza.

Pam: Yeah, if you turn to Ross’ favorite recipe in the family cook book, all you’ll find is directions to the neighborhood Mexican restaurant.

Ann: Pizza and burritos. When the boys are in charge of dinner it sounds like our stomachs are in jeopardy.

Pam: Alex, I’ll take Alka Seltzer for $200…