I'm so interested in siblings that go into the same profession. For years of my life, I didn't try to write professionally because I thought that was my brother's thing. Now we're both writing and it's great. Turns out there's room for both of us in "writing," which, of course, means different things for each of us because it turns out we are different people. You seem to have avoided the problem I had, but this is a great example of how those sibling relationships get under our skin.
Coincidentally, "There's always room" is also my philosophy of cooking. It didn't go so well earlier this week, when I tried to brown an abundance of brussels sprouts in a 12-inch pan. Fortunately, there was also an oven and baking sheets in my kitchen, so I guess I proved the thesis with a caveat: "There's always room, but sometimes you have to clean more dishes."
I feel this with every fiber of my being, from my own personal experiences.
Although not a chef currently, I am professionally trained and a skilled home cook and I have never been invited to dinner by anyone. On one occasion I was invited to lunch by a friend who'd just returned from a trip to Italy and brought back amazing pasta which she wanted to share with someone who, as she said, "knows how to appreciate quality food." Friends have told me to my face that they aren't comfortable having me to dinner because they can't cook like I can and lament that I won't like their food. Really, all I want is to sit down at someone's table and share a meal together. I don't care what it is, how it's procured, what store they shopped at, or any details. I just want to share a meal with people I like. Even when I go to a potluck gathering I am faced with people apologizing for not bringing anything extravagant. If they could only see the simple meals I make for my husband and I, the pots of beans and fragrant rice, plates of roasted vegetables drizzled in a tasty sauce, a simple baked potato topped with sautéed mushrooms and steamed broccoli. My food isn't fancy. I just want to share a meal.
That was such an amazing answer, it got me thinking about why I don't like to entertain or cook for other folks. I think I just don't know the right kinda folks. It's not chefs in my case, but folks that only eat ultra processed food. I love to really cook with whole food ingredients - totally from scratch -- and not traditional at all. I make "multidimensional bowls" with quinoa, tahini yoghurt, roasted shrooms & peppers, marinated onion, homemade tempeh, garlic lentils & beans; and yeah: no meat. We eat like that every day; he's easy to please; and if he wants a piece of cowbutt, that's totally fine. He knows where the BBQ is. ;) But he's the only one I'm cooking for - so far. I have no desire to open a box of crackers and slap Velveeta on the table. I'm such a snob! But we're both healthy in our 60s/70s with no diabetes other crap in sight.
I'm so interested in siblings that go into the same profession. For years of my life, I didn't try to write professionally because I thought that was my brother's thing. Now we're both writing and it's great. Turns out there's room for both of us in "writing," which, of course, means different things for each of us because it turns out we are different people. You seem to have avoided the problem I had, but this is a great example of how those sibling relationships get under our skin.
Yes, that problem we avoided. But others we have run into! Of course, one of the big lessons, the forever learning lessons: There's always room.
Coincidentally, "There's always room" is also my philosophy of cooking. It didn't go so well earlier this week, when I tried to brown an abundance of brussels sprouts in a 12-inch pan. Fortunately, there was also an oven and baking sheets in my kitchen, so I guess I proved the thesis with a caveat: "There's always room, but sometimes you have to clean more dishes."
I feel this with every fiber of my being, from my own personal experiences.
Although not a chef currently, I am professionally trained and a skilled home cook and I have never been invited to dinner by anyone. On one occasion I was invited to lunch by a friend who'd just returned from a trip to Italy and brought back amazing pasta which she wanted to share with someone who, as she said, "knows how to appreciate quality food." Friends have told me to my face that they aren't comfortable having me to dinner because they can't cook like I can and lament that I won't like their food. Really, all I want is to sit down at someone's table and share a meal together. I don't care what it is, how it's procured, what store they shopped at, or any details. I just want to share a meal with people I like. Even when I go to a potluck gathering I am faced with people apologizing for not bringing anything extravagant. If they could only see the simple meals I make for my husband and I, the pots of beans and fragrant rice, plates of roasted vegetables drizzled in a tasty sauce, a simple baked potato topped with sautéed mushrooms and steamed broccoli. My food isn't fancy. I just want to share a meal.
Couldn’t agree more. As a chef I love nothing more than other people feeding me and not having to decide anything except do I want seconds!
That was such an amazing answer, it got me thinking about why I don't like to entertain or cook for other folks. I think I just don't know the right kinda folks. It's not chefs in my case, but folks that only eat ultra processed food. I love to really cook with whole food ingredients - totally from scratch -- and not traditional at all. I make "multidimensional bowls" with quinoa, tahini yoghurt, roasted shrooms & peppers, marinated onion, homemade tempeh, garlic lentils & beans; and yeah: no meat. We eat like that every day; he's easy to please; and if he wants a piece of cowbutt, that's totally fine. He knows where the BBQ is. ;) But he's the only one I'm cooking for - so far. I have no desire to open a box of crackers and slap Velveeta on the table. I'm such a snob! But we're both healthy in our 60s/70s with no diabetes other crap in sight.