Thursday, November 19, 2009

Thanksgiving

In my childhood and teen years I thanked God for everything. Everyone did. You thanked Him for all the things you had and for all the things you didn’t have, for the tribulations He spared you and those inflicted on you: the former showed his love, the latter was His way of testing your love.

You might think that this reflection comes as I prepare an edifying invocation for Thanksgiving dinner next week.

It doesn’t. Now I give thanks mainly because I never became addicted to smoking and radio talk shows and that I am not a Republican, not exactly what you close your eyes and say in solemn tones before a joyous feast.

This solemn recollection comes as I am doing what I usually do when my wife prepares dinner at home: the unskilled tasks of washing the vegetables, and later, the pots, pans and dishes. It’s the only contribution I can make or that she wants me to make, given my utter lack of culinary skill.

The fervent thanks comes to mind because I recall how much more complicated those tasks were back when I was a kid. You had to wash and clean all the food ingredients, thoroughly.

You sifted the flour, I never knew why, but I suspected it was to isolate the odd weevil: hey we lived thousands of miles from any wheat field and transportation was slow, so one or two would have crept in while government regulators were busy dealing with World War II.

You “picked” the rice, meaning you spread it out on the table and laboriously picked out every tiny grain of gravel or granulated asphalt or husks that escaped the winnowing wind which blew those particles from the crumbling, partially paved rural road on which that rice had been laid out in the sun to dry.

The first time I tried to help my wife with cooking chicken, she asked me what I was doing, as I was trying with surgical care and precision to remove every trace of membrane that didn’t look like meat from the “Boneless Skinless Chicken Breast”. That was what I thought I had seen my mother and sisters always doing when preparing chicken, whole chickens, raised in our backyard, or any kind of meat, didn’t they? How was I to know that that was already done at a processing plant before that chicken was packaged?

Washing vegetables meant washing each leaf of lettuce, individually, peeling every carrot, scrubbing every cassava, yam, dasheen or potato, scrutinizing every organic (the only kind then) fruit for the odd worm.

It’s a role that I, as a male, inherited from a culture and generation in which males were nourished by the womenfolk: mothers, wives, sisters. Even in the years while abroad at university, it was the kind Irish lady of the household with which I lodged who provided most of my meals. In my early post-university years when I had to fend for myself as a single adult male, I did what single, adult males of most species do for survival. I hung out with similar single adult males and as a pack we foraged for food: from compassionate wives of married friends, girlfriends, fastfood joints, the occasional splurge on a dinner date...those were survival.

So, I never learned to cook.

I have tried to adjust to my new reality of a household in which there’s no division of labor along gender lines. In fact I fancy that I make a reasonable boiled egg and choose just the right number of seconds in microwaving frozen burritos, chicken pot pies and vegetables. But my wife and kids are unanimous in assigning me those unskilled tasks when they are cooking. I wonder why.

Or should I just be thankful?

10 comments:

~CovertOperations78~ said...

Dear Mr. Louis,

Your fastidiousness is hilarious! I was in stitches reading this!

"Now I give thanks mainly because I never became addicted to smoking and radio talk shows and that I am not a Republican"

That's simply priceless! I wonder why it took me so long to come here from Pak Idrus' blog. Your blog is a treasure!

Best regards,
CO78

Guanaguanare said...

Louis, I loved this. You are right we must be very thankful and always, always compliment the cook(s). Too many times we assume that our gratitude is understood. I know that sometimes it is sheer dedication that gives mothers especially the energy to constantly prepare meals for their families. Words of thanks and praise can give an immediate second wind to the weary. Thanking YOU for this reminder.
Blessings

louis said...

Hi CO_'78,
Your visit to my blog was a very surprising and welcome pleasure for me. I regularly read your comments to Pak Idrus' and Zawi's blogs. I tried to link to your blog but it seems one has to be permitted to do so.

I am glad that you picked up on the undertones in the things I chose to be thankful for. It implies that you are familiar with the current situation in the US, something that unfortunately can't be said of a lot of our own population.

Thanks for your positive evaluation of this post. I look forward to more interchanges of ideas.

Louis

louis said...

Guanaguanare,

What a delight to know that you still read my blog.

I learned somewhat too late that, as you pointed out, we shouldn't assume our gratitude is understood. I just hope that those to whom I owed the most gratitude were able to read between the lines in the interim.

Pak Idrus said...

Louis, I left a comment on this posting. What happen!

louis said...

Idrus,

Some tech glitch must have occurred because I have not received your Comment. Please send it again.

Pak Idrus said...

Louis, I am in full agreement with you as to the concept of Thanks but differ at great length on cooking.

The reason had been, not only on enjoying the end product of cooking but on the whole idea of cooking itself. I believe it is because I grew up in a restaurant that is managed by my father. Thought I was never ask to cook anything but I believe it is the environment that made one to learn and appreciate the culture of cooking.

My dad was the cook and everything else in running the shop. And we the kids became his helpers when we are back at home [the shop]. Here is the interesting part. My dad and we the kids was having a conflict of interest. Where he would love to have as many customers eating in the shop and make money, we the kids would be happy when the shop is empty for we did not have to serve the customers and wash the dishes and those other chore that come in a restaurant. We now joke that He was the General and we was all in sort of a National Service and had to obey orders only. But then over time we learn so many things about business and cooking.

So whenever we go out camping as Boy Scout I would be the Chef and actually I love doing that. Now when we organized B.B.Q I would be the one in charge and enjoy doing it.

As for the home kitchen now, Asmah says that it is her department and I have to respect her for that. She would allow me to do my cooking when she is not doing anything there. So like the other day I venture and create my brunch and things like that. Even that now I love to help in the kitchen like washing the dishes although it is no longer a 'National Service'.

I know how hard it is to put a plate of food on the table and that is why I normally thank the chef when eating out.

Well I am sure you could do a good Nasi Goreng on the table the next time you get the opportunity and surprise Elena on your culinary expertise.

Well, it look like I have to thanks my dad for that 'National Service' for that's what made me love to cook. I believe you would be enjoying that Turkey on Thanksgiving Day.

Thanks my dad and all those that made my life so very colorful.

Happy Thanksgiving Day to Elena and you and the rest of the family. Have a nice day.

louis said...

Hi Idrus,

Thanks for re-sending your comment. Sorry to have put you through that trouble.

You would have learned a lot in addition to learning to cook by helping out in your father's restaurant. After I went overseas, the culture of my native Trinidad, like most others, underwent a lot of change, including the blurring of those gender roles. But for years while a student I didn't have access to a kitchen, so those changes passed me by anyway.

I do very much enjoy the end product of cooking though, perhaps too much so. It's one reason why I enjoy visiting Malaysia so much.

I will yet master nasi goreng, thanks to the packages you sent me. When I achieve that, I shall celebrate.

We are going to have Thanksgiving dinner at our daughter's, the cooking done by our son, daughter and son-in=law. Matter of fact that turkey in the sidebar photo was cooked and presented by our son at a previous Thanksgiving.

All the best

Anonymous said...

Louis, yes we do have a lot to be thankful for compared to millions of others.

And to be thankful for those days of sifting the flour to catch the weevils, separating the pebbles and husks from the rice and 'lovingly' removing each worm from the leaf of the vegs. I won't trade those colourful days for any computer games.

Being thankful. It think it is also an extension of always looking at the bright side of things.

Happy Thanksgiving!

louis said...

Adirya,

Thanks for your Thanksgiving greeting.

Sorry to have delayed this long in replying, but that too was part of Thanksgiving, because I was away from my computer for some days for the holidays.

I think I'd rather look back fondly on those chores of decades ago rather than re-live them :)

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