How I Became The Family Chef

It's a simple story.

While recovering from an illness, part of the routine was my sister used to come to my nearby apartment and taught me the basics of cooking, which I enjoyed since athletics was limited during my recovery. After nine months of lessons, my sister said that I had learned fairly well to cook for most families.

After getting married, the first few months I participated in meals that were made by my wife's grandparents and parents, and we ate there every night. It was two months after we were married that my wife came to me and said she was going to cook Hungarian Goulash which she knew was one of my favorite dinners, and was going to serve it the following night in her uncle's apartment as the theatrical site for this grand event, her first entry into the field of marital cooking.

As we sat down with her uncle to partake on a delicious-looking stew" I took a heaping serving of one of my favorite meals, especially now that it was prepared by her lovely hands. I yelled "wow, that's hot taste-wise"   and spit the concoction back onto my plate, and leaped to the kitchen faucet to fill my mouth with all the water pouring forth from this life-saving life savior.

It took about five mouthfuls of water to calm down this "very-hot" Hungarian Goulash effect-mixture. Upon calming down from this life-saving procedure, I turned to my wife and yelled..."You're Fired", I'll do the cooking from now on; you put way to much paprika into that dish!"

She felt terrible, but starting the next day I cooked practically every meal served in our home for the next close-to 65 years of eatable food, with perhaps one or two meals of complaint.  I was not looking for awards, only meals that did not make many run to the faucet to quench their meal.

"Thank you, dear sister, wherever you are, for your lessons on cooking."

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ALWAYS ALLITERATIVE

 (Using "F")

Fred fed fantastic food,

Featuring feathered friends,

Favorable fresh, foremost for favorites

Frequently founding fellowships forever.

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Bernie is a real person who resides in one of our Brookdale communities. Many of the stories he has written are based on factual evidence from newspaper stories and other sources available to the public.  He uses his imagination in parts to help supply the “twist” at the end.  The views and opinions expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of Brookdale Senior Living.

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