Brooklyn, Cooking and the Kids

Katherine today.

Last Friday night, we journeyed out to AuroraLand--a shopping venue with an entertainment area. Chris was singing in one of his bands--this time The Jersey Shore. Lots of stuff by The Four Seasons. There was a large crowd, lots of folks danced and it was a good time.

The grandgirls were there in appropriate princess attire (dresses that flow outward when twirling and spinning). They danced--and were just so themselves. Sammi ardently looked at other dancers and imitated dutifully and even joined a conga-line of sorts--she wants to do what everybody does. Brooklyn just twirled and twirled. From Brooklyn's point of view there is no point in wearing a princess dress if you don't twirl and twirl.

At one point Chris picked Brooklyn up while he was singing something that had a na-na-na-musical chant that repeated. It was one of those times when he sings a phrase and then the audience is supposed to echo it back. Instead of cuing the audience, Chris put the mike in front of Brooklyn and she loudly echoed the syllables back on key and in the right rhythm. It was very cool. She's so much like her daddy.

Brooklyn's little dip into show biz has made me think a lot. Why do your kids pick up what they do and not pick up other stuff? Why do they try so hard to please in certain areas and totally rebel in others? Why do only two of our children live and die over the Broncos? Why do none of them drink coffee? Why does one believe so ardently in fairness and the other two see the absurdity of the concept? Why does the one who loves nature the most live in NYC? Why does the one who lives here find nature boring? Why are they all such good cooks? Why are only two what you would call readers? They are all good writers. One of them can spell and punctuate accurately. All are generous. None is particularly good at writing Thank You notes. I certainly meant for them to be good thank-you note writers, but they are not. Something went astray there. Other places too. That's where my mind has been. Why aren't they all devoted to the Broncos the way I intended?

It's odd that among the lessons Jim and I passed on, one of the biggest was unintentional. Somehow or another, all three of our kids are wonderful cooks. All of them like to cook and entertain. I started to realize it when they each left home. The first sixth months of phone calls had more to do with recipes than anything else.

Chris is probably the most daring of the three. He made up snacks in his youth. The lemonade-chocolate sauce drink he created in eighth grade looked and smelled awful, but he drank it regularly. You go to his house now and he will have invented some new way to eat something--scrambled egg won tons were a winner not too long ago. He's playful with food the same way he is playful with everything.

Nate turns cooking into the sort of art that only he can do. The sandwiches he made for himself in high school were masterpieces. He'd grill steak and chop onions and peppers and melt cheese and we would all stand around and admire his sandwich. If we admired the sandwich appropriately, we could have bites. These days he does things with BBQ that make me want him home and manning the backyard Weber right now. He made grilled chili, wings, and smoked ribs for the backyard party before Franny's wedding. Ahhhhh. Nate takes photos of his food sometimes too. The sandwiches he makes are still really impressive.

Franny is probably the most serious of the three when it comes to cooking. She didn't show much interest at all growing up, but after college she was calling regularly with cooking questions. She's the only one who is a student about it--she reads recipes, learns more varied techniques, has incredibly high standards about equipment and ingredients, creates new dishes and imitates dishes she loves in restaurants. I've begun to call her about recipes.


Jim and I have always enjoyed cooking. We were always pretty good at it and we always enjoyed it. It wasn't a chore--it was another way to hang out together. We've gotten better at it and it's still a great way to hang out together. I'm just glad our happy attitude about cooking rubbed off somehow. Maybe the best lessons are never intended.

That's it for today.
K.