I can’t cook worth a darn.  Just last night I attempted potato soup for the first time and after finishing, Josh so nicely said, “This was good but it seemed more like a casserole. Hmm?”  Yeah, I know babe, you’re not supposed to have to use a fork and chew up your SOUP.  Somehow it got super thick and turned into loaded potato casserole. Ugh. Kitchen- 143247983 Dana- 5. (I’ll be kind to myself.) After his comment we also joked about a moment at the very beginning of our marriage when I broke down crying in the grocery store and then again in our kitchen on the floor because I couldn’t find anything in the store, forgot half of the ingredients I needed for meals, and then realized I bought 5 boxes of cream cheese, 100% believing it was sour cream.  Josh told me I’d laugh about it someday, as the tears were streaming down my face about how I’ll never be a good wife or mother.  Three years later, I’m getting there.

I swear I’m not totally incompetent.  I know the difference between cream cheese and sour cream.  I just got so overwhelmed in that moment.  I panic about things that have to do with the kitchen.  How much food? How long? How do you prepare 2 things that both need the oven and 5 things that need the stove without using the microwave that’s going to give all my family and guests cancer.  Deep breath! Phew.  And too bad about the microwave people.  It’s my lifeline.  I cooked spaghetti on Monday and you would have thought the Duggar’s were coming over.  How the heck are you supposed to measure how much spaghetti to make?!??! I think we have 3 lbs of LEFTOVER noodles.

When meal planning, I prefer 10 or less ingredients and lots of pictures.  Case in point, why Pinterest is my favorite “cookbook.” When I was out on my own, yes I grocery shopped, but mostly for the same 5 things: granola bars of some sort, cereal, milk, cheese sticks, and a fruit option.  I think I covered all the main food groups there.  I’m a carb-oholic so sometimes I’d add bagels, crackers, and bread for grilled cheeses in there for kicks. Money was tight, people! And when you’re only one person with a busy schedule, it was always just easier and sometimes healthier to eat out. Not (always) fast food, but yes sometimes fast food. I know you feel me with the Chic-fil-a. Can I get an amen!?

This brings me to now, when I have a family to feed and a home to serve food in. No, I still don’t like to make dinner. But I do like to have people over and have them eat, talk, and relax in our home.  I love the smell of something cooking that you’ll share with others that will be coming over hungry, the candles burning that you light right before they arrive.  I love attempting pies and cobblers.  (Secretly someday I may have an interest in baking.) I love refilling cups and the dirty kitchen that’s stacked with empty plates.

Our little rental is small.  Not like smallllllll small but there’s basically only one room for people to congregate in.  Our table is a tiny square with 3 chairs and most of the time it’s covered in wood boards and paint. When people come over we end up eating on the couch the majority of the time.  Sometimes I wish it could be more formal, maybe not formal, but definitely more normal.  That I could have a table for people to gather around, that I could work on beautiful centerpieces and place settings and add special touches for them to notice when they take a seat.  But thennnn I get off Pinterest because I’m sidetracked and it’s the thief of joy for me (sometimes).

I’ve realized its not about the complexity of my table and my space or the craft of cooking for me. It’s about the community I’m serving.  It’s about the relationships.  This is something I am just now beginning to learn about myself. I always thought being in isolation was what I preferred.  I think as an only child, it comes naturally.  But really that’s not me at all. Satan says, “Be alone Dana. You can’t cook. Or make friends.”  See now I don’t prefer the small talk or surface chatting that comes with the daily grind of meeting and greeting.  I’m horrible at it.  I’m like stick-your-foot-in-your-mouth awkward.  I could write a book with the lines I’ve used during awkward silences.  WHYYY DO THEY EXIST?!? Music should come on or something when that happens. Seriously!

BUT the real, honest, hilarious, life long friendships, those are what I’m made for.  I love my people. The people I’ve clung to in every stage of life that are still there now.  I love when you meet someone that you instantly click with that you know can be in your tribe for life.  When they actually love eating on your couch more than at the table because then we can be all together, under blankets.  The friends that know where the blankets are and just get them, and if I don’t refill their drink, they do it themselves.  Mmmm I just love it.  Friends that know cooking scares me so they pitch in and we tackle it together.  Friends that sleep on your couch because you don’t always have to be filling the silences.  AMEN!! THANK YOU  BABY JESUS!!!

Thinking about leaving our WV people makes my heart hurt.  The same way my heart hurt when I had to leave my Pittsburgh people.  But I take comfort in the fact that even though I left them, they are still my people, because the relationships were built for any storm or circumstance.  What is built around our tables, couches, porches, or floors, isn’t about the food. Because *most* people don’t remember how bad or good my food was. But they do remember how they felt at home when we were all together.  My people are funny people.  We laugh so hard.  We give each other a hard time but we love each other harder.

 

So maybe it’s not so much about the craft of cooking but the craft of creating community for me.  And for those of you that can do the cooking part too… can I come over??

 

~Dana

 

 

 

*photos were found on Pinterest*