I
knew it wasn’t right. But I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what was wrong, so
I called in an expert.
“Well?
What do you think Mom?” I asked.
“It’s
a little bland,” she said being polite. “What did you put in it?”
“MacKenzie’s
seasoning—just like you always did. I followed the directions. I don’t
understand why it tastes like wallpaper paste.”
“Oh
Honey, I don’t follow the directions!”
“You
don’t?”
“That
little seasoning packet is just how you start out. This chili needs a doctor.”
“A
what?”
“You
know. Something to add some pizzazz. Let me see what you have here.”
She
rummaged through my meager pantry.
“Here
we go,” she said. “Oregano, chili powder... you don’t have any chipotle do
you?”
“No,”
I said sitting on the step stool feeling like I was five-years-old. I wanted to
surprise Nick with his favorite meal of chili, but the results weren’t what I
was hoping for.
“Don’t
worry Sweetie. This may not win any chili cook-offs, but we’ll still make it
tasty.”
“You always made
this look easy,” I said.
“What looked
easy?” she said looking astonished.
“Cooking! You just
waved your magic spoon and there was this fabulous dinner on the table.”
“Sweetie, by the
time you came along I had years of practice. I was a lousy cook when I was a
newlywed. In the beginning, your poor father choked down more burnt dinners
than I care to remember! Now,” she said as she stirred more spices into the
pot. “I know you’ll have some good dark beer in the house. Pour in a bottle.”
“Won’t it thin it
down to much.”
“Just turn the
heat up, leave the cover off, and keep stirring. It will cook down. The flavor
will be great.”
She began to put
her coat on.
“You aren’t
leaving, are you?”
“Of course Dear.
Your young marriage will survive a bland meal or two, but a hovering
mother-in-law is a different story!”
I’m linking up this week with
the Trifecta Challenge. This week’s word was: DOCTOR (noun)
1
a : an eminent theologian
declared a sound expounder of doctrine by the Roman Catholic Church —called
also doctor of the church
b : a learned or authoritative
teacher
c : a person who has earned one
of the highest academic degrees (as a PhD) conferred by a university
d : a person awarded an honorary
doctorate (as an LLD or Litt D) by a college or university
2
a : a person skilled or
specializing in healing arts; especially :one (as a physician, dentist, or
veterinarian) who holds an advanced degree and is licensed to practice
b : medicine man
3
a : material added (as to
food) to produce a desired effect
b : a blade (as of metal) for
spreading a coating or scraping a surface
The challenge calls for us to use the third definition of
the word. My own mother used to use “doctor” as a verb as in “This sauce is
bland. I’ll doctor it up with a half cup of red wine.” But I had never heard it
used as a noun.
This is nice! What an understanding mom to come in and save the day and slip out before he gets home.
ReplyDeleteExcellent... from the 5 yr. old on the stool to the hovering mother-in-law. A voice of experience and a new voice just starting out. Good use of doctor.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this. This is a great story. Well done, rich and emotional. This is really really good. :D
ReplyDeleteHa! I love that last bit of "don't leave!" panic when the mother is going out the door.
ReplyDeleteWonderful use of the prompt & loved the dialogues.A mother's love & her expertise in the kitchen-both priceless:-)Such familiar territory-many of us have been there.I know I have-I was a poor cook when I got married-though I did not burn anything but it was nothing to write home about. Ofc,now my daughter thinks I am ta great cook,but she still believes that her grandma was the best of all ,lol!
ReplyDeleteGreat ending.
ReplyDeleteYou have a very wise mom. Great story and I love the title.
ReplyDeleteGiggle.
ReplyDeleteThe number of times, even with a formal culinary certification under my belt, that I call my Mom to ask just how she made something from my childhood... and such a cute ending!