After my kids over dramatic, rebellious display of eye-rolling, stomping of feet and cupboard slamming subsides (and the steam from my ears is reduced to a simmer), the initial rhetorical question of ‘What’s your problem with helping?’ becomes a slightly defeated, slightly begging, real question of ‘So, what IS your problem with helping?’
All of this is in reaction to a simple request to help prepare dinner. On most days I have a routine of having my lunch and the family dinner prepared before 9am. That way, I can ensure that I have no extra reason to procrastinate the real, paying work that has real and consequential deadlines!
Our current cooking situation says more about me, than them…
On the rare day that this routine isn’t adhered to and I haven’t succumbed to procrasti-cleaning or procrasti-cooking later in the day (oh, the struggles of working from home!) I ask the kids for help to prepare dinner. In the grand scheme of 365 days, we are talking about them being asked approximately 3 percent of the time. Yes, I will admit, I am one of those – ‘Just-let-me-do-it, it-will-be-done-faster-and-properly’ type of people. But, I have realised that I am actually depriving my kids from a skill that I think is absolutely necessary in being a capable adult. Although, you could assume I am talking about cooking, which is an immensely important skill. I am actually talking about the skill of understanding that we all have to do things we don’t want to, we don’t like or that make us cry, like cutting onions, for the good of the whole.
While I understood my son’s protest of ‘Why should I learn this, I don’t like cooking?’, I still boiled over with ‘Badluck, now get to work’. Afterwards, icing my response with ‘It’s like swimming, you don’t like that either, but it’s a skill that is important to have and I’m confident you can utilise throughout your life’. So, while I was only just staying afloat with this justification and returned to my office (leaving the inexperienced chefs with sharp implements and hot cooktops), I chewed on some thoughts about how cooking itself, introduces children to life skills in other ways too.
1. More than one way to cut a vegetable
As they yell from the kitchen to my office, ‘What’s the difference between chopping and dicing? Do you want it in thin slices or thick chunks?’ The completely reasonable, but to me in a time of deadline stress, stupid questions keep coming…It’s not like they haven’t eaten spaghetti bolognaise a million times already in their lives! Surely, they had their eyes open for part of it! I think to myself, why, oh why, did I bother getting their help? So, with eye rolling, foot stomping and office door slamming I proceed to spit out the answers, until I realise this is my own fault. I haven’t been leading by example, I’ve just been setting the example that ‘mum does the cooking and they don’t need to know the details.’ I have not taught them any legitimate kitchen or cooking skills. Unless two-minute noodles and ¾ cup full milo/ milk ratios count, of which they are highly skilled!
If I’m completely honest, I don’t know why certain recipes call for things to be chopped and others diced. Surely it is just about the preference of the cook? But what I do know is, like life, there is more than one way to cut a vegetable. I want my kids to know that if something doesn’t work for them, they can try a different way. In the end the taste of success is all the same.
2. Portion size matters
Sitting down to my meal, I notice that my serving looks a little, um, out of whack. My kids have had their meals prepared for them for their whole lives, so it always amazes me that they struggle to allocate the regular portions we would each have. Knowing how to cater to the needs of people, in the right amounts, is a skill that is invaluable. Giving too much or too little is something that is learned through feedback and experience. With my snappy mood and hangry-ness emerging, they certainly got feedback about my overwhelming mountain of spaghetti, minimal meat sauce and an inordinate number of carrots in the mix. Seriously, how can they not know how I specifically require my spag-bol to be served, after all these years? Oh, that’s right, it hits me like the searing pain of an ice cream headache, with their lack of experience, why would they know?!
I’m sure they will experience times when they apportion too much of their time to one area of their life, which leaves little space to fit everything on their plate. I’d rather they learn this through cooking than life experience, but time will tell. A balanced meal is synonymous with a balanced life, getting all the essential nutrients makes you healthy. Getting them in the right proportion allows optimal health.
3. Sharp knives, just like sharp tongues, need to be handled with care
Yes, they can cut (bandaids are abundant in my kitchen) but when used correctly they are a far more efficient and effective than bluntness. Note to self – heed this advice.
4. Food is there to nourish our bodies, not to comfort us
After the chaos of dinner prep, and before even taking my first mouthful, the question of ‘What’s for dessert?’ arises. And, like an oven that is opened too quickly, I deflate into ‘Just eat your dinner!’ I, both as a parent and an adult, also need to get out of using food as a reward and/ or consequence. I want my kids to understand that food should be respected as nourishment and fuel, not used and abused as a means to treat a hurting heart.
When the kids were younger, we encouraged ‘eating up all their dinner and then they could have dessert’, which was a ploy to ensure they were well fed and nourished. Now, they know why they need to eat their dinner up, but often confuse hunger with reward/ consequence. So, generally our response to ‘do I have to eat all of this?’ Is, ‘Don’t eat it if you’re not hungry’ but it comes with the caveat that there is no dessert. With the clear distinction that dessert is not a ‘reward’ for eating all of dinner, but a ‘treat’.
5. But, I don’t like…
This catch cry has driven me (and likely, other parents) to drink! Ok, so I don’t need any excuses for a fine wine, but really?! My kids have been marinated in the mantra ‘You don’t have to like everything that is on your plate, but you need to experience anything before you protest your dislike or form an opinion based on what it looks like.’ Let’s be honest, most of us judge the ol’ cook book by its cover (c’mon, don’t deny it). So, presenting food in the best possible way will make it desirable, but its substance is what gives it true taste. Of course, I want my children to put their best foot forward, but I want them to have skills and experiences that add flavour to their lives and spice to other people’s lives, making it a pleasure to know them.
6. Cooking with fire
Cooking, and life, is fraught with dangers. But controlling every situation is just plain boring! Of course Ms control freak, rule follower over here (me!) sometimes often forgets this. Hence the reason my kids lack cooking skills! Sometimes though, a bit of charred food adds a different flavour all together, peeling away layers to reveal new tastes of life. Taking risks, turning up the heat, working under pressure is part of the excitement. With that though, comes the fear my kids will get burned. I need to let my kids experiment a bit more with their own life recipes and trust that their skills and intuition will guide them. Let’s just say, I’m still in the recipe development phase with this.
7. The cherry on top
Well, now that I have justified the inherent life skills in cooking, there will be a lot more helping in the kitchen from my kiddies…whether they like it or not! I guess the proviso is that my control freak nature will have to go off the boil just a little too. We, as a whole family, get to benefit!
Do you let/ encourage your kids cook?
What is your favourite family meal?
xk
