Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Barefoot in the Kitchen

Joking, of course, my mom's response when I told her that I was changing my last name to Weaver after the wedding (and dropping Keck all together, not hyphenating or adding a middle name) was, "What kind of feminist did I raise?!"

Well, no worries, mom.  Becoming Mrs. Weaver has apparently not turned me into a barefoot-in-the-kitchen housewife.

Here's how I know:

Neal and I were talking about our cooking abilities this afternoon.  I explained to him that (even though I hated to admit it) Bruce is a much better cook than I am.  He's more creative, cooks to taste rather than to recipes and genuinely enjoys the process.  I - on the other hand - need recipes and I need them to be simple.  I tend to obsess over meat and whether it's cooked all the way through (subsequently often overcooking it) and the first time I tried to make breakfast for Bruce and me (first weekend alone in Atlanta) I burned the bacon, filled the apartment with smoke and stood in the middle of the kitchen and cried.

True story.

I digress.

So Neal and I were joking about the fact that we need recipes because what if there is an off chance two spices absolutely CANNOT be mixed and we happen to mix them?  I don't remember much of high school chemistry (I spent most of it practicing my saxophone in the music hallway, honestly), but I remember that you weren't supposed to just mix chemicals.  Is the same with spices?  How do I know that I won't mix the right amount of spice A with spice B, top it with some oil and vinegar and POOF!! I have carbon monoxide?

These are the things that go through my head.

So anyway, you would think after this particular conversation I would throw in the dishtowel and order pizza.  But - recipe in hand - I ventured to the grocery store after work.

And this is what happened in one short trip to Publix ... 

- I had to ask an employee on the refrigerated dairy isle where the blocks of Velveeta were only to be informed they were "down on isle 10, Velveeta doesn't need to be refrigerated until after it's opened." (who knew?!)

- I walked up and down the canned vegetable isle thinking that because there were canned tomatoes I would find taco shells and seasoning (I did not).

- I circled the store three times before I found potatoes (they're in produce near the onions, if you're curious).

- Once I found said potatoes I had to call my father (yep, I'm a big girl - I'm married and live 1,000 miles away but I still call my parent's house from the grocery store) and ask him what russet potatoes were.  I think it's safe to say my father was trying hard not to laugh as I lowered my voice and muffled the question into the phone as to keep from drawing attention to the people around me with my embarrassing lack of potato knowledge.

And Bruce wondered why I had a weird look on my face when I walked in the door with the groceries.

So barefoot-in-the-kitchen housewife is out.

How about wearing-spike-heels-while-holding-a-pink-cocktail?  I think I can pull that one off.

Maybe there's still hope.  We've only been married for 39 days, after all ... 


  1. What, precisely, did you make with potatoes, taco shells, velveeta, and canned tomatoes?

  2. Haha, I like your way of thinking on this...and I'm totally the same way. Corey does all of the cooking in our house. I think I called my mom from the store one time to ask her how to boil an egg...Give me the spiked heels and pink cocktail any day over trying to make a good meal!

  3. PS- At least we can always offer to clean :)

  4. I have 2 thoughts on this blog:

    2) I'm with Kari and would like to know what precisely you made with this concoction?

  5. Sarah, you had me LOL the entire time I was reading this post!!! At first I wasn't sure what to think about what you mentioned in the beginning. I guess you could call me a traditional kinda girl. I'm reminded of the time right before we got married and I jokingly threatened my husband that I was going to keep my maiden name. His response was "Your Daddy don't support you any more." Of course he was being silly, but in the end, there was never a question in my mind that I wanted to take on my Hubby's last name. Some days I actually miss my maiden name, and even feel bad for not keeping it since I have no brothers to carry it on, but oh well. I made my choice and I'm happy with it!

    Now...about your cooking skills. Don't feel bad, I'm not a wonderful cook either. I pretty much make the basics. So far in seven years of marriage I have managed to not kill my Hubby with my cooking so I must be doing something righ! And as far as spices are concerned, I really don't use tons of fancy stuff. I pretty much just use that seasoning that I gave away on my blog not long ago. Maybe I should send you some of that to try?

    Hope you have a great rest of your week and thanks for the laughs today!!!

  6. I can't tell you the number of times I've called my dad from the grocery store to say things like, "OK Dad, where in a grocery store would I find artichokes? Because they're not with the pickles." I'm so glad I'm not the only one who has these problems!


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