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The Joy of Feeding My Family

By: Lisa Mcknight

I didn’t like to cook. I didn’t like the pressure of making sure I had a hot, unique, tasty meal on the table every night. I didn’t like grocery shopping or coordinating a menu and a grocery list. I was bored with the monotony. After five years of building frustration I had enough. My bad attitude came spilling out all over the house at meal time and I found myself loathing that time of day. I even felt anger toward my husband. My daughter was satisfied with microwavable chicken nuggets, macaroni, or a bowl of ramen soup. My husband wasn’t. I found myself looking forward to the weekends when he was off fishing just so I didn’t have to worry about dinner. When he would come home early or late after a fishing trip without eating dinner and ask where the leftovers are; I would remark snidely we ate cereal.
I didn’t want to loath dinner time. Especially, I didn’t want to loath my husband for wanting to eat dinner. I decided I was going to conquer this thing I detested the most, cooking. I went to library and checked out books and DVD’s on cooking. I started to learn about how to cook better. I learned about the history of food. I learned that there are hundreds of varieties of potatoes and that there is even one type of potato that tastes like strawberries. I have learned how to prepare garlic so it has its full flavor. I have learned not to add sour cream to a dish when it hot because it causes it to separate. Every piece of knowledge I have treasured. I still have a lot to learn.
As I have cooked in the kitchen I have started to realize how the process of cooking so closely parallels life. When someone doesn’t put there full heart into a project I have this phrase in my head, “Wow, that person half baked that one.” When someone runs a muck trying to do everything and conquer the project in one blow without aid from a single other soul I have this phrase in my head, “Wow, that person is on broil.” The thought keeps running through my mind, “Life doesn’t have to be broiled or half-baked but can be handled with care and attention and come out perfectly in the end.” Like when you make a cake, the recipe usually says it will be done cooking between 35 to 40 minutes and you have to watch and wait with a toothpick in hand, checking it constantly, to pull it out at the perfect time. I have thought about this parallel on a lot of levels like how I have friends who half bake their relationships with other people and other friends who broil their relationships with other people. Still other who care for people and lovingly watch over them and check in on them often to see if they are done. Balance is such an important part of life and cooking.
Ingredients are something else I have come to reflect on. How the wrong combination of ingredients can create a disaster and leaving out something as miniscule as a teaspoon of salt can alter your pie to the point where you would rather not have a slice. I hate that and love it. Salt, sugar, butter, flour, leavening, and eggs are the foundations of baking. Without one of these simple ingredients the end result is disastrous. What are the ingredients that are the foundation to my life and what is just fluff. Yes, chocolate is exciting, but is it necessary. (I would say yes, but a lot of others might not agree with me.) Chocolate is great. The other day my sweet daughter saw the cocoa powder and stuck her finger in it. She had to have a taste. Then she started spiting everywhere. I am sorry but cocoa isn’t any good without something added to it. Chocolate is just chocolate on its own but can be something beautiful when it is married to sugar and combined with flour and all the other ingredients that make up a cookie, cake, or a brownie. I thought about this in my marriage. We, my husband and I, often reflect on the fact that we are so different in a negative way, but what would the cocoa bean ever do without sugar? One is bitter and one is sweet but together they are magic.
There are so many life lessons in the kitchen. It is no wonder Satan has combined his forces to thwart work of woman in the kitchen. I was watching “The View” the other morning and this panel of women was talking about what we can do to help our relationship with our spouse and one of the women said, “We certainly don’t need to be waiting at home with an apron on and a nice meal on the table. We have moved beyond that.” This is a lie; a lie of the adversary.
Our Father in Heaven put hunger in the souls of men, women, and children so they would have a reason to come home. We would have a reason to come together three times a day. We would have a reason to serve one another. The dinner table could become something in life to create memories around. The dinner table could be a safe place, a place where we could share our day, a place where we could laugh and a place where we could share spiritual moments. As I write this now, I am reminded that there is a sacred place in our Father-in-Heaven’s house, a table of sorts, where families are made and sealed together for all eternity. I have been taught my entire life that a home is a sacred place, a place only second in sacredness to the temple. If this is so, then where is the alter in our home. I would suggest it may in fact be the dinner table.
I still have a very long way to go. This concept is only beginning to enter into my soul. I know it is truth. I hope it grows into something beautiful. The thing I most dread will become the thing I most love. Through my efforts and sacrifices I will build lasting memories of cooking wilth my daughters and serving beautiful delicious meals to my entire family, including the man I love more than anything.



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