Foodies
In my family it is said only half jokingly that if we aren’t actually eating or cooking, we are talking about food. Even the youngest of the infamous “Cousins” have taken an active interest in the process. My nephew Chris at around 6-years old once explained to someone, “We’re a family of foodies.” Seriously.
A case in point would be my 9-year old grandson JR, who greeted me upon my arrival down here in NYC yesterday, with the words, “Hi, Grammy. I’ll make your breakfast tomorrow. I made the best prosciutto scrambled eggs the other day!” Whereupon his mom chimed in, “Oh my God, they were so good!”
She went on to explain that earlier in the week, JR and his friend Mia had decided to fix breakfast. Upon checking out the fridge they discovered a package of chopped prosciutto. They had both seen enough cooking at home, they knew what to do. The prosciutto got sautéed, eggs were beaten and added to the pan, and everyone was delighted with the results. And by the way, they did it solo, on their own, with no adult input.
My sister Joan’s grandson Liam, one of the band of “Cousins,” (always said emphatically so that it sounds not only capitalized, but probably like it should also be followed by an exclamation point) spends a lot of time with his Mim, and he loves cooking right along side her. Joan was telling me how he recently explained to his father how he had learned to fry onions. “You have to sweat the onions first, and then you caramelize them so they’re nicely browned.” If Joan is cooking, Liam wants to be at her elbow, learning as they go.
Chris, my sister Bev’s grandson and the elder statesman of the group who has already reached the advanced age of ten, as a toddler used to sit on the counter as Bev made bread, announcing with the addition of each ingredient, “I love flour! I love yeast! I love salt!” I think he had the recipe committed to memory by the time he was two. And although I don’t believe he has actually done any hands on cooking yet, he is pretty well tuned into the process. In fact at the last big cousin get together last winter when I planned to make baked mac and cheese, he told my that his mother uses 4 different kinds of cheese when she makes hers. We had a whole discussion on the topic, so that’s how I made it then, to rave reviews, and how I have made it every time since. The boys all love my mac and cheese, critiquing the taste and texture as they eat it, and loving the crunchy, buttery bread crumbs that always top it.
(I butter plenty of slices of fresh bread, toss the buttered bread into the food processor, and zap it until it is turned into beautiful soft crumbs. Then I spread them lavishly over the mac and cheese, baking it until the crumbs are golden brown and crunchy. It’s my favorite part of the whole dish. In fact, I keep thinking I should probably make it in a sheet pan so the mac is only about 1″ deep, and with double the surface for bread crumbs.)
The guys’ interest lies not only in the preparation of the food, though, but for the last couple of years they also love running a restaurant while at my house. They write up menus, complete with prices, take orders for whatever food is being served, and then present a bill for services. Their cheekiest venture to date took place last year on the Saturday after Thanksgiving when they checked out the leftovers in the fridge and then warmed up, served up, and then charged all three of their grandmothers for the food we had all previously bought and cooked.
Liam thought they might make out better if they put out a tip jar instead of charging us outright. The young robber barons split $27 among them and were mighty pleased with their day’s work.
