Improvising

I have never enjoyed cooking.  When we first got married I was thrown into the role of “home chef” since PChad was going to school full time & working on the farm, & immigration laws kept me from doing anything.

So, I attempted to learn to cook, but no matter how hard I tried, it seemed that my meat dishes were always over cooked.  My MIL stepped in in an attempt to not see her son wither away to nothing, and under her tutelage I learned that cooking was going to take a lot of work.

See, I grew up baking, and I had learned that measurements had to be precise, recipes had to be followed.  I knew my baking spices, but had never learned much about cooking.  I had no idea what half the spices on my spice rack tasted like, or how to pair them.

My MIL is an AWESOME cook.  She can look through her cupboard, see what’s there & whip something up.  I, on the other hand, have to look at a recipe, see that I have all the ingredients on hand & follow the directions to a T.  And I still have trouble cooking meat.

So, she tried to teach me, her methods being more of a “add spices ‘til it tastes good,” & “cook it until it’s done.”  One time we needed to make a few stews, so we assembled them together & I took mine home to cook it.  Hers was great, mine not so much.  I think I have a gift.

A few weeks ago I was making lasagne & realized that I didn’t have enough mozzarella for the top layer, so I decided it was time to improvise & use the cheese that I did have… string cheese.


And at dinner that night I discovered something about myself… I still don’t have a clue.  It was the most rubbery lasagne I’ve ever had, and I don’t mean that in a good way.  We had to scrape the top layer off because it was that bad.  I think I’ll just stick with the recipes’ instructions from now on.