3/27/2015

He's the cook in our family...


i’m good at a lot of things, cooking is not one of them. i’ll put it like this, during the thanksgiving meal prep i’m usually in charge of buttering the rolls. for years i was content with my small yet impactful contribution in the kitchen but when i got “marriage on my menu” everything changed. the domestic superpowers that laid dormant for so many years began to activate and i tried my best to “throw down” without making my husband throw up. i over-seasoned, overcooked, undercooked and burned my way to major insecurity in the kitchen. rob was sweet and never criticized my meals, but he definitely wasn’t making any requests. in fact he’d work all day come home and insist on cooking for the both of us, that pretty much confirmed that my cooking sucked.

growing up i had no interest in cooking. i lived with my grandmother who is a great cook but i never took advantage of learning her recipes nor did i appreciate the food she cooked. she’d be standing at the stove (usually wearing a very short nightgown) and i’d walk in with my basketball in tote. without turning around she’d say “tamra get outta my kitchen with that nasty ball”. i would ask what she was making and she’d rattle off something like “neckbones, cornbread and navy beans”. back then everything on the mcdonald’s menu was more appealing than neck bones and i’m sure my arteries will pay for it one day. the truth is that i was more interested in perfecting my jump shot than perfecting my grandma’s famous mac-n-cheese. before i knew it i was in college and could barely make hamburger helper. after college i moved into my own place and i literally ate chick-fil-a for a year straight before learning how to make dry and i mean dry chicken breasts.

it became apparent very early in our relationship that rob would be the cook in our family of two, and to my amazement he loved to cook! that’s when i knew he was the one. handsome, saved, educated and he can burn, clearly the lord was looking out! together we would defy the conventional marriage roles that we’d seen our whole lives. rob would cook, i’d do all the cleaning and we’d live happily ever after. and that was the plan, until we ate at a friend’s house and rob couldn’t stop yapping about how good her food was. he was all like “ah man, this is excellent”, “wow, what did you put in that…cumin?” i sat back with the saltiest smile as my man raved about how good some other woman's cooking was. cumin, hmph… probably can’t spell cumin. i was two seconds away from stabbing him with my fork. 

we’ve been married for almost a year now and rob is still and will probably always be a better cook than i am. although my crockpot game is on fleek, he has yet to compliment my cooking the same way he did hers. I’m not worried because I have a lifetime to get that response out of him. i’m just going to keep working at it and try and get better every day, same as when i was perfecting my jumpshot all those years ago. in the words of every black baptist pastor “i’m not where i want to be, but thank god i’m not where i used to be”.

-tam

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