that I'm so happy I started this supper club.
I was mentioning to my mom, the other day, that in the short time that we've been a (somewhat) official supper club, I have learned so many things about cooking that I never would have thought a year ago. Really and truly.
Previously, cooking had always intimidated me. The potential for things to go horribly awry upon forgetting to add a certain ingredient, reading a measurement incorrectly, or setting the house ablaze with a grease fire were all things that led me to give an especially
wide berth to the kitchen. Even after watching enough of the
Food Network to be inspired to venture into the dark abyss that was the culinary unknown, I still maintained the habit of reading and re-reading recipes (rehearsing in my head) weeks in advance and lining up all of my ingredients in the order they were listed, the night before. It was manic to say the least.
I refused recipes that called for
any interaction with meat. I just knew that I would give everybody E-coli &/or Salmonella poisoning, and that they would never want to come to my house or eat my food again. I was absolutely certain of it. So instead I sat in my friends' kitchens, impressed at how they could courageously cut into an onion with absolutely no fear. Mind-blown at the psychic powers they seemed to possess, in knowing that that something in the oven needed to cook for 15 more minutes.
I wanted to be
that person. I wanted to be the person who people invited to cook-outs and asked to bring their famous-homemade-I'm-such-a-fabulous-cook potato salad. Instead, I was the person who people invited to Thanksgiving gatherings and asked to bring the cranberry sauce. I was the person who people invited to barbecues and asked to bring the chips. I was the person who people invited to dinner and asked to make the tea.
But one night, as I lay in bed lusting over the
Cooking Channel, I realized that (despite my suspicions) people weren't born with these wonderous culinary powers. They were
learned--and that involved practice and experimentation. A few thoughts later, the idea of a monthly supper club just kind of came to me. I called Mistie immediately and the rest, as they say...
Since then, I have not only cut my share of onions, but I have bravely cut the limbs from a duck (that I commenced to cook). I've stuffed a chicken. I've roasted potatoes. I've sauteed mushrooms. I made a cheesecake. I can wrap a wonton. I can tell when peach cobbler needs another twenty minutes in the oven. I can fry apples. I know the difference between regular and self-rising flour. I know how to (properly) melt chocolate. I can put peaches in a cast iron skillet...and walk away without thinking twice. Things popping in the fryer, bubbling in the pot or sizzling in the skillet, doesn't worry me anymore.
I still may not be the person who people trust with the potato salad, but I'm a longshot from where I was: I have supper club to thank for that.
