Lovingly Submitted by Lori Myers
(a.k.a.: My mom is an amazing cook … NOW!)
Once, long ago, before my mom actually became a fabulous cook, she created a truly awful meal. My apologies to her. It might have been my fault!
She was at wits’ end. My brother and I were the choosiest, most finicky eaters on the planet and our head chef was sick of KD and hot dogs. I don’t blame her.
Before proceeding further, I admit here that our demanding (and refusing) tastes were probably what led to the frustration provoking the dinner menu in question. Our terrible eating habits were also why, until then, not many adventurous culinary attempts were made in our house. Mom knew no one would eat them.
One day I returned home after an energetic post-school romp in the ravine. Hmmmmm. What was that strange aroma wafting from the cheerful kitchen?
Sorry Mom, the nose knows. This nose in particular.
“Do I smell … LIVER????!!!” I asked, completely appalled, and ready for a fight.
“Of course not!” replied the quick-thinking budding chef.
You know the old adage: when in doubt, lie. Sometimes it works. (Not on me, mind you, but I always do admire a sincere attempt!)
“I smell liver!” I screamed. There was an echo in there. And I was ready to run away from home. (Or at least go elsewhere for dinner.) (Someone, somewhere was making KD.)
“Don’t be silly!” Mom attempted to calm me down.
Yep, that had always worked in the past. Not.
The dish in question was a frighteningly unsubtle attempt to conceal a bit of protein. The offending substance was actually ground, sautéed chicken livers, in spaghetti sauce (which I already disliked, as it contained bits of unknown “ingredients”) (duh!!).
Okay, chicken liver spaghetti. Sure, that sounds like something picky kids would l-o-v-e. Parents, seriously: where do you get these ideas?
The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. That is: no one ate much. Not even the optimistic cook. We were mad, the house stank (sorry, Mom), dinner was truly awful. Mind you, no one left the province.
Liver was never attempted again. Cooking soon became much more exciting and adventurous as the whole family cultivated a sincere and lasting interest in varied ingredients, and meals other than macaroni. Food became an excuse for exploration and fun and shared research … of the eating variety. There were plenty of great meals from then on. And there still are!
This tale about attempting to inflict some variety still comes up often at family dinners, because that horrible dinner led to lots of wonderful cooking. And because I can be a bit of a pest with a bad story. And also because somehow there is nothing quite so much fun as a loving family joke.
The little experiment didn’t work Mom, but you more than made up for it!
