Bad cooking and steak eating dogs.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

My entire life has been a struggle with food. When I was younger, my parents were broke ass poor, so we'd eat whatever we had. There was no meal planning or fresh vegetables, that's for sure. They got a lot of Salvation Army food donations and things like that. And hey, everyone has their rough patches, I'm not hatin'. My mom was a horrible cook though. The worst. A few things that come directly to mind, are an overcooked cinnamon-soaked steak, and spaghetti enhanced with an entire bag of frozen peas. Has she improved since then? I'd like to say yes, but I don't really know. My dad took over the cooking somewhere along the way. He was always having a bbq, or marinating something. His cooking, is fantastic. When Christopher had first joined the Air Force and was gone away at Basic Training, I was pregnant and temporarily living with my parents. My mom was away on a trip to the beach, and my dad was having a "gun party". All of his friends had come together with ice chests full of beer, and every kind of gun legal in state of Washington. Okay I can't be sure they were all legal. My dad had recently hunted down a deer, which isn't something I agree with, but my opinion doesn't matter when it comes to him and his meat. And when I say hunted down, I really mean drove to the top of the hill behind their house, shot it, and then drove back down. It literally took him 5 minutes. "Unk! Big tough man! Kill deer! Unk unk"! Something like that. So while all of these steaks are marinating in the kitchen sink, my dad goes outside to shoot some more tin cans off their posts. Well he comes back in, and I hear in a very loud and angry voice (kind of like a vicious bear, if you can imagine a man sounding like that) ..."TAAAASHA!". Yeah, Tasha is my dads pet rottweiler, that he got to replace me when I moved out. He comes into the living room and asks me if I had seen her. I tell him about how she came in with a guilty look on her face, and then left without a sound. Turns out she had managed to stand up tall enough to get her big ol' dog head into the sink, and ate all of the raw steaks. HAHAhahhahaha. Every last one of them. Too bad we didn't have Tasha when my mom made those cinnamon-soaked steaks. Because, seriously.

10 comments:

Our Life as The Edwards April 3, 2008 at 10:37 AM  
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Born 2 Bee Wild April 3, 2008 at 10:40 AM  

I LUVS your stories TIA!!! This is my new favorite blog. ;)

How To Eat A Cupcake April 3, 2008 at 2:01 PM  

oh no! allergic? that sucks :(

thanks for the comment on my blog. yours is neat!

Kinichi River Designs April 3, 2008 at 4:08 PM  

I hope you don't have a mighty sick dog on your hands... yikes!

I absolutely love the felty pancakes! That is fabulous!

Christopher And Tia April 3, 2008 at 8:05 PM  

Oh she managed to keep the entire deer down, but she sure didn't feel so hot afterwards.

AlasMyDear April 3, 2008 at 9:21 PM  

hey, your stories make great reading! i love the unk-unk-kill-deer bit :) and i'm glad you don't have to eat bad cooking anymore. i'm sorry, but your mom's cooking does sound nasty! blech...

Diana April 3, 2008 at 10:21 PM  

OMG. Where have you been all my life?

Great story. Sorry about the broke-ass poor part. And the cinnamon-soaked steak. Seriously. I'm really sorry.

I'll be coming back often. You rock it really hard.

xox
Diana

Callooh Callay April 4, 2008 at 8:16 AM  

This is hilarious. My dog got half a pear tart I made once, and for a science fair experiment my son tried to rig up a buzzer system to train her. Didn't work. We have to hid things from her.

Tatyana April 4, 2008 at 10:50 PM  

Hehe its good to have someone to take over the cooking. My mum is an awful cook too and often its a relief when my stepdad takes over... She'll dump a ton of salt on a bit of rice. and then she'll make believe that she enjoys so much salt that she's parched afterwards just to not have to admit that she miscalculated...

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