The Skinny On Me Week 29: Mama Knows Best

On Monday night my mom offered to write a guest post for me because I am sick as a dog and she's amazing and I just couldn't muster up the energy to do anything but put peroxide in my ear. I loved everything she had to say, but because I am a crazy, psychopath, control freak that just can't stop myself when I'm on a roll, I couldn't help but ask her to expand her thoughts and give a bit more insight into the ideas she had put onto the page. Want to know what she did? Instead of expanding those thoughts into paragraphs of prose, she wrote her thoughts into a bulleted list then asked me to check it out.

Without even realizing what I was doing, I instantly took her words and tweaked them into the post you will read below. When I looked over and told my mom what I was doing she said to me, "I know you sweetie, and it's exactly what I wanted...I was just getting you started."

So this day I am thankful. I am thankful for the men and women who serve our country and give us the freedom to giggle and laugh while working on the things that we love, I am thankful to have the ability to share my life with my minions and invisible internet friends, and I am thankful to have a mother that knows me better than I know myself, who loves me unconditionally and supports me in everything that I do, and who is a master at her craft and who effortlessly knows how to bring out the best in me without me even noticing. Enjoy! :*)

Photo by Valerie Schooling Photography

Have you ever had someone come to your house, high jack your Facebook page, only to post something that either embarrasses you, gets you into trouble or starts a nasty rumor? Well, that has happened to Amber tonight. She’s running a fever, feels like “ca ca”, is whining and whimpering, and she doesn’t have the initiative to pick up her computer to post.

Luckily, none of those symptoms hit her until after she made & photographed today’s recipe.

So here I go.

This is Amber’s mom, and I am going to give you the scoop on the “diva” chef of Slim Pickin’s Kitchen.

My daughter got her cuisine gene honest…her grandmothers, great grandmothers, and great great grandmothers all had it, and I see small smidgens of each of those loved ones sprinkled throughout her personality.

When Amber says she’s been in the kitchen for as long as she can remember…well…that is actually very true. When she was younger her favorite game was “House”, and she used to seat her baby dolls and teddy bears around a tiny wooden table that my daddy had handcrafted just for her. She would then squeal and giggle as she pranced around it, serving her “kids” piping hot bowls of “Monster Gumbo” and heaping plates of “gooey blue green produce”.

As the years have passed and Amber has grown, so has her creativity and craft. She can now create a magical blend of herbs and spices that can easily rival that of her foster sister’s husband who just so happened to be an employee of “Top Chef’s” Tom Colicchio.

Am I’m bragging?

Maybe just a little.

Amber dreams up recipes that are great before they even get put together, and she’s known to bellow out an idea to no one in particular then speedily scribble it down into a little notebook she carries around in her pocketbook.

Before she got married last October, she moved in with us to save up funds, work on wedding plans and to secure a cat sitter on call. But did her Dad and I mind?

Are you kidding?

We loved it not only because we had our baby girl back at home and not just because we were official taste testers of nearly every recipe she has created for this blog, but also because she would turn into our own personal, private chef who would cook us fabulous and fancy suppers every night we were home.

But like all good things, there was also a down side to the situation. For starters, did you know fresh basil always makes the kitchen smell so wonderful yet it stains the big wooden cutting board GREEN? Also, have you ever lived with a self-proclaimed drama queen foodie who freaks out because you don’t have the proper carving knife needed for the beef bourguignon?

I’d have to say the hardest lesson I learned was when she spent one entire day mixing, pouring, stirring and banging and clanging EVERY pot, pan and dish she could find in the house. Can I also add here that I have two generations of fine china, serving trays bowls, and silver servers that she loves to use for food styling and photo shoots?

Yeah…she used those too.

Then when dinner was over she hung up her apron, dusted off her hands, shouted “Toodles” and then she was out the door faster than a fart in a whirlwind (my husband's words, not mine). Just like any executive chef of their own restaurant would do, she had done the work and was out the door.

What? No bus boys? No dish washer?

Well, yes there was a dishwaser…and you guessed it…that dishwasher was me. My daughter had just left sauced pans, floured pins, souped pots and a plethora…yes I said plethora…of assorted sticky, herbed and glazed dishes for me to wash. It took two loads in the dishwasher to remove all evidence of Chef Amber’s delicious masterpiece.

By the time it was all clean and I was finally able to reminisce about the wonderful dinner my daughter had made, and I could finally savor the amazing after taste of the seasonings she used…it was time for the next test recipe to be made.

My baby, my daughter, my best friend lives by a the saying that’s known very well around the world…or at least around our household…and it goes a little something like this…“He who cooks, shall not clean”!

So there you go.

But I have to tell you the truth…I wouldn’t change it for anything else in the world. When my house is warmed by the aroma of cinnamon and nutmeg, and I hear the same happy squeals of delight I used to hear around her tiny wooden table so long ago, my heart is filled with joy and triumph because I know I did my job…and the dirty dishes too 😉

Note: This is Amber now, and I have to add that my husband has since fixed the spoiled rotten ways my mother mentioned above (Ugh. See!!! How do people even deal with me?!? Honestly...). Although that saying still stands in our home there has been a slight amendment to the original bill...now it's more like, "He who cooks shall not clean...BUT he who cooks best believe they better clean as they go or dessert will be denied...indefinitely." EEEK!