Cracking Up in the Kitchen
When Aislinn was little, younger than 2, I used to carry her around the kitchen with me and explain all the steps of constructing her cheese omelet. Since she was an early and prolific talker, it wasn't long before she took charge of the task, telling me what we needed and how to put everything together. When she got bigger and her hand-eye coordination improved, we would make muffins together. At first she was in charge of putting the papers into the muffin cups. Eventually she moved on to pouring the milk in, and after a while she was even allowed to crack the egg. Without fail, she would gently tap the egg on the side of the bowl or on the counter, carefully put her fingers near the crack to open the egg, and then throw the whole thing, shell and all, into the bowl. Given her extensive exposure to the proper cracking of eggs during the omelet phase, I couldn't understand why she always threw the shell in.
Lauren never liked eggs, but she did like to do everything that Aislinn did, so eventually she started helping with the muffins. She was not one to stay occupied with the paper cups and the muffin tin. In fact, in a rather famous episode from her babyhood, when she was 15 months old she waited until my mother had left the room and then climbed up a step stool to get the spoon from the muffin batter and then back down to try to get the batter into her muffin tin on the floor. She was always very interested in using a spoon handle to level off a cup of flour, and she was quite precise when pouring liquids into the batter. However, when she finally moved up to eggs, she did the same thing as her sister - carefully performing every step of careful egg cracking, and then tossing the whole thing, shell and all, into the bowl.
When poor Marty finally came along, the eggs had been removed from the recipe on the muffin mix bag. Now all the muffins need is some water or milk, which is no fun for the kiddies and probably the reason why they don't eat many muffins anymore. Technically, I suppose the change in the muffin mix is meant to be a convenience, but in reality it is an annoyance. Now, if I want to cook with the kiddies, I have to go the whole nine yards with muffins from scratch, and rarely do I have the energy for that.
As a result, Marty never gets to cook much. When we make muffins on the weekend, he has to split the job with both girls, and they already know what the fun things are, so he is usually left dumping spices and baking powder from the measuring spoons or whining for a chance to get on the step stool and mix something. So this morning, I asked Marty if he wanted to help me make some cookies. I felt bad that he was so far behind in his culinary training just because his sisters are bigger and the muffin mix has been dumbed down.
The first words out of his mouth? Do these cookies need eggs? I told him that we needed three eggs, but first we needed to get some other stuff together. He was unimpressed with the sifter, he had no interest in adding the butter and sugar, he couldn’t have cared less about weighing the chocolate chips (although he did scurry down to eat the one that fell on the floor). What he wanted to know was: how many eggs we needed, where they were, and if he could crack them.
Finally, egg time arrived, I handed him the egg and a small plastic bowl (it only took 3 kids and 300 rounds of muffins, but I finally realized that maybe I shouldn’t let them toss the egg directly into the batter). He tapped the egg on the bowl to no avail, so I showed him how to tap it on the table. When he finally managed to crack it, he put his fingers through the crack, and when the egg started to pour out, he tossed the whole thing, shell and all, into the plastic bowl. Unfortunately the recipe called for three eggs, so we had to go through the following sequence 3 times:
He really was a lot of fun to cook with, and even though his sisters always do the fun jobs, obviously he has been paying attention and waiting for his turn to star in the production and crack and throw the eggs. The girls never made up songs or complicated dance moves on the step stool, so I guess he has found a way to personalize his experience.
Every day Lauren tries harder to be like Aislinn and Marty tries harder to be like Lauren and Aislinn. Today it occurred to me that they learn so much from each other that sometimes I slack off on my job of showing them new things. In all of the craziness of our household at the moment, I forget that I can teach them a thing or two, and that I might be surprised with what they can teach me.
But an egg cracking tutorial is in order for all concerned.
Lauren never liked eggs, but she did like to do everything that Aislinn did, so eventually she started helping with the muffins. She was not one to stay occupied with the paper cups and the muffin tin. In fact, in a rather famous episode from her babyhood, when she was 15 months old she waited until my mother had left the room and then climbed up a step stool to get the spoon from the muffin batter and then back down to try to get the batter into her muffin tin on the floor. She was always very interested in using a spoon handle to level off a cup of flour, and she was quite precise when pouring liquids into the batter. However, when she finally moved up to eggs, she did the same thing as her sister - carefully performing every step of careful egg cracking, and then tossing the whole thing, shell and all, into the bowl.
When poor Marty finally came along, the eggs had been removed from the recipe on the muffin mix bag. Now all the muffins need is some water or milk, which is no fun for the kiddies and probably the reason why they don't eat many muffins anymore. Technically, I suppose the change in the muffin mix is meant to be a convenience, but in reality it is an annoyance. Now, if I want to cook with the kiddies, I have to go the whole nine yards with muffins from scratch, and rarely do I have the energy for that.
As a result, Marty never gets to cook much. When we make muffins on the weekend, he has to split the job with both girls, and they already know what the fun things are, so he is usually left dumping spices and baking powder from the measuring spoons or whining for a chance to get on the step stool and mix something. So this morning, I asked Marty if he wanted to help me make some cookies. I felt bad that he was so far behind in his culinary training just because his sisters are bigger and the muffin mix has been dumbed down.
The first words out of his mouth? Do these cookies need eggs? I told him that we needed three eggs, but first we needed to get some other stuff together. He was unimpressed with the sifter, he had no interest in adding the butter and sugar, he couldn’t have cared less about weighing the chocolate chips (although he did scurry down to eat the one that fell on the floor). What he wanted to know was: how many eggs we needed, where they were, and if he could crack them.
Finally, egg time arrived, I handed him the egg and a small plastic bowl (it only took 3 kids and 300 rounds of muffins, but I finally realized that maybe I shouldn’t let them toss the egg directly into the batter). He tapped the egg on the bowl to no avail, so I showed him how to tap it on the table. When he finally managed to crack it, he put his fingers through the crack, and when the egg started to pour out, he tossed the whole thing, shell and all, into the plastic bowl. Unfortunately the recipe called for three eggs, so we had to go through the following sequence 3 times:
1. Crack the egg.
2. Dump the egg and shell into the little plastic bowl.
3. Fish the shell out of the bowl and pour the egg into the mixing bowl.
4. Wash the egg off of Marty’s hands.
5. Turn on the mixer and watch Marty grab the measuring spoons, tell them “Let’s get out of here!” and run down the hall.
6. Turn off the mixer, go find Marty and his faithful companions, the mixing spoons, and convince them to come back to the kitchen.
He really was a lot of fun to cook with, and even though his sisters always do the fun jobs, obviously he has been paying attention and waiting for his turn to star in the production and crack and throw the eggs. The girls never made up songs or complicated dance moves on the step stool, so I guess he has found a way to personalize his experience.
Every day Lauren tries harder to be like Aislinn and Marty tries harder to be like Lauren and Aislinn. Today it occurred to me that they learn so much from each other that sometimes I slack off on my job of showing them new things. In all of the craziness of our household at the moment, I forget that I can teach them a thing or two, and that I might be surprised with what they can teach me.
But an egg cracking tutorial is in order for all concerned.
posted by Shannon at 10:14 PM
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