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THE COOKING CLASS

Introduction to a series by Victoria

Do you know what the Buddha did between Enlightenment and giving his teachings to the world?

He ate.

Everyone needs to eat, especially college girls nurturing their growing bodies and brains.

I have two apartments in the downstairs part of my house and I rent them to college girls that are taking their first foray into independence.

The spaces are safe, small and very cute. They face onto a large yard that sits on the edge of a green belt. In the middle of the yard sits a large fire ring and there is always plenty of wood for burning.

One of the girls, Heather, came through the back door of my kitchen.

I must tell you about my kitchen.

I love my cooking space. The natural knotty pine walls are aglow like the amber of good Whisky. Two large windows face out into my wildly green back yard where birds of all sorts flitter in and out of multiple bird feeders.

A comfortable red bar where people can sit and schmooze while I’m cooking. I love it that my appliances large and small are all red, black or stainless steel.

I have more cooking tools than you or I could ever need.

My kitchen can accommodate making a meal for one or 20.

I am happy to be the head kitchy witchy in this compact realm of gustatory delights.

When Heather came in start I asked her to throw together a salad.

Her response was “ With what?”

“ There you go girlie.” I said, pointing to the counter with my flaming red finger tip.

There sat a cutting board with a large knife sitting atop it looking like nothing less than Joan of Arc’s conquering sword. Everything she needed was laid out in its various bundles and bags, ready for the wash, chop and slice show. The array included ( Lettuce, tomatoes, garbanzo beans, celery, blonde beets, basil, mint and sunflower seeds.”

I also asked that she devise some dressing thingy from the oil, lime and herbs I had set beside of the board.

What was that a blank look on her face? I watched her slowly shuffle across the kitchen.

At the cutting board she surveyed the mass quantities of goodies I had placed there.

She peered at the vege array.

She held her arms out in front of her and started wiggle waggling her fingers like she was approaching a dead rat.

The look on her face signaled she was in imminent danger of changing a baby’s shitty diaper.

I said, “ Is there a problem?”

She turned around with a look of subdued terror on her face and said “What am I supposed to do with all that?”

I thought “ WTF is she talking about?” Then I asked “ What’s the problem dearie.”

She retorted “ I don’t know how to make a salad with anything but lettuce and bottled dressing.”

I just stared at her and said “ What in the world do you mean?” Are you telling me you don’t know how to make a salad?”

Could it be that all these years all she had made nothing but word salad.

Jezuuus Joseph, Mary and the cat on the hill! The child was telling me she does not know how to cook! Not a lick, nada, nary a chop or stir. How was this possible? I asked “How do you function without this know-how.

She responded “Take out.”

Take out???!!!

She had been surviving on take out for crying out loud!

Simply unbelievable.

This is how my cooking class began for nine college girls.

More to follow…

Chapter 2 of The Cooking Class — Starting from Scratch