So tonight, my husband made my cheese enchilada recipe. I’m old and clumsy, and this week I fell. I hurt myself pretty good. Yeah, I know, that sounded totally Southern. But long story short, I’m on bedrest so that, hopefully, next week, I can pick up things off the floor and not scream in pain. Anyway, I had planned to make my enchiladas for dinner. My husband decided he would go ahead and do this. Ya’ll, it’s HARD to let someone else do the cooking!
I gave him basic instructions. Then I sat in the kitchen (on a chair, as I’m supposed to be resting) and totally backseat cooked that whole thing. I think I did pretty well. There were many “well, I would have…: moments that I kept quiet. And in the end, dinner was delicious.
So, what did I learn from this? Nothing. I mean, yes, I know, my way isn’t the only way to do things. But my way is THE way in my kitchen. I’m kidding. Kind of. I think I still annoyed him plenty in my constant reminders. Like, I even told him what utensil to use to fluff the rice. Yeah, I’m terrible. He was generously patient with me and only yelled at me when I got up to stir the sauce.
Please don’t get me wrong. My husband can cook fairly well. He makes me breakfast often. It’s somehow different when they are making one of YOUR recipes. I’m glad it was cheese enchiladas because I don’t know that we would have survived had it been one of my more ambitious recipes. I mean, he would have made them fine. I just might have driven him insane with all my tips and “I would do it this way” moments.
If anything, I learned that yes, I am a total control freak in the kitchen. I freely admit this. When my daughter Katie cooks, I often do the same thing. She is very patient with her crazy mom.