The other day we were having one of Mike's favorite meals-- pasta. He (and my father) could eat some form of pasta every night.
As all of us know pasta has a point when it is DONE. Al-dente is the preferred doneness. We were having classic spaghetti and marinara sauce the other day and I was waiting for everything to cook. After a while I carefully pulled one strand to spaghetti out of the boiling water and tasted it for doneness. Does it have the right "bite", is it al-dente? The only way to really test it, in my opinion, is to bite into it. Now in college, we had another test; throw it at the wall and if it sticks it is done. Really. People did this. People I know did this! OOH FAA as Grandma would say. But back to the point: as I bit into that singular strand of spaghetti I smiled and realized that I could remember feeling trusted and grown up if someone said, "Diane, come and tell me if this tastes done", and gave ME the responsibility of deciding if the pasta was cooked.
When my mother, or my grandmother or aunt trusted ME to tell them if what we were serving needed another minute, if it was salted well, if it was too rare or whatever, well , those were the times when I thought they thought I had lived enough to make those decisions. After all, you don't ask an 8 year old those questions (unless you are doing it to boost an ego).
What other things made us feel smart or capable or trusted?? Is this the same in France or China or Chile?? Is it universal?? I have no idea. I just know that years ago I sometimes got to decide if the food was ready to serve to our family.
I will never forget that, since food, in our family, expressed love.
I am new to this form of communication so please bear with me. In my advaced years I am becoming more electronically savvy, which I am told by my teenage daughters is a good thing.
ReplyDeleteWhen I was single living on the beach, my apartment was a meeting focal point. At times there were people there I didn't know but as long as everyone got along I was cool with it. Consequently I prepared many meals of pasta and sauce. My technique to test doneness was throwing against the wall. Hey, it worked for me I am Irish!! Many time after dinner we were in a hurry to catch a band or "beat the line" at a club and I didn't clean the wall. This led to many a conversation about the wall near my stove. It was like an art piece, with people staring at strands on my wall while holding their chins in wonder. I dare not do that now , although I will let my daughters in on the secret prior to them going off to matricualate in college. Thanks for this magnificent platform of communication. I might add that I did all this without the luxury of a plaid apron. I just wanted to tie the 2 points together. Thanks again
diane if you remember the proper answer was always...two more minutes. regardless of the truth!!
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