Cooking Madness

Cooking Madness

Future Reflections Fall 1989, Vol. 8 No. 3
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COOKING MADNESS
by Carol Castellano
[PICTURE] John and Serena Castellano give Mom, Carol, a helping
hand in the kitchen.
Why anyone would want to spend two or three
afternoons a week cooking with a couple of little
kids, I don't know (Serena is four and a half and
blind; John is two and sighted). But then again, if
I don't cook with them, supper simply doesn't get
on the table because at 4:30 or 5:00, my two
formerly pleasant, reasonable children turn into
Cling-Ons. That is, they wrap their now whining,
tearful bodies around my legs. It is difficult to
move briskly about the kitchen weighted down by
sixty pounds of baby, so I would ordinarily give
up and go play with them on the living room floor
until my husband came home, whereupon he
would either relieve me, go call for take-out, or,
in desperation, cook supper himself.
Then I discovered cooking with the dumplings.
They really love it, and their dad is happier, too.
So, everything takes three times as long. So, we
make quite a mess. We do eventually get a decent
meal on the table, and my kids are gaining a good
knowledge of cooking tools and terms.
They scurry about gathering ingredients and
searching for pots in the cabinets. "I need the very
large pot way in the back," I'll tell them. "See if
you can find its cover." At the refrigerator we
practice with terminology such as "bottom
drawer on the right" and "the compartment on the
door." Then they drag chairs over to the sink for
washing hands. I run the water so that Serena can
hear where to bring her chair (our kitchen is a
large square with cabinets on two sides, and
Serena is still learning her way around in it.) If
there are any vegetables to be scrubbed, we do it
together at the sink. Then they climb up on their
"cooking chairs" at the table.
The children usually begin with peeling the skin
from onions or garlic. If necessary, I "start them"
by making a slit with a knife. Serena can easily tell
when the garlic is completely peeled. Then wej
put all our vegetables on a large cutting board. I
tell them to choose one vegetable and get ready
for cutting. I pick up the knife and put one child's
hand on it under mine. We talk a lot about the
fact that the blade can be dangerous and that they
are never to handle sharp knives without an
adult.
When we cut large items like carrots I let the
children hold them themselves with my hand
over theirs. Serena likes to feel the tips and stems
we're going to cut off. So that she will really understand
what the knife is doing and where it
goes, we pause midcut and she feels the slit the
knife is making. After the cut, I often push the
carrot or potato together and let her slide it apart
so she can relate the whole to the parts. When we
slice small items such as garlic, I tell them,
"Mommy has to hold the garlic because it's too
small and I don't want the knife blade to get too
near your fingers."
Sweet potatoes lend themselves well to math lessons.
"Choose a potato, Serena. Now, let's cut this
potato in half. Here, see what the halves look like.
Are they big or small? Yes, they're still too big to
go in the pot. Let's cut them in half again. Make
the pieces stand up on their flat end." Slice. "Now
look. They're much smaller, but we still need to
cut them some more. Make all the pieces lie
down." All this handling of the pieces builds a
concrete knowledge of many concepts, including
the fact that living things contain water.
If the vegetables need to go right into boiling
soup or water, I usually insert the extra step of
having the children pick up the pieces and put
them into a bowl first. Serena checks to see if any
pieces are still too big and if the cutting board is
empty. Sometimes they load the vegetables into
the upper section of the food processor (nowhere
near the blade, and again, with much discussion of safety) and then together they press the start
button (it takes two of them to do it!). After I
remove the blade, we examine the results of the
processing.
I do all the work at the stove or oven, explaining
to the children why they cannot. We talk about
the sounds and smells of cooking. We listen for
the water to boil; we note the sizzle of sauteing
food. I explain the various plops, splashes, and
bubblings in the hot pots as I pour and stir.
Dry ingredients are a lot of fun. The children
open all the containers, learning about lids,
spouts, corks, twist-offs, screw-ons, push-ins,
pop-tops, and pull-tabs, while developing their
dexterity and strength. I give each of them a
measuring cup and spoons and a stainless steel
bowl (good for noise) then we scoop and pour
many more times than we actually need to, listening
to the sounds and digging in to feel the textures
and, yes, tasting, too. John prefers raw
macaroni; Serena favors flavored breadcrumbs.
There's no accountin' for taste.
When the children open oil and spice containers,
we sniff and enjoy their pungency. Then we pour
and sprinkle, letting the oil drizzle and the flakes
filter over Serena's fingers so that she can see
what they feel like and how they come out. Of
course, this appeals an awful lot to John, too.
They take turns sprinkling the spices on. Serena's
turn. John's turn. Serena's turn. They never forget
whose turn it is, and our food gets awfully
spicy.
We open cans at our house with a primitive tool,
the manual can opener. We work hand over
hand, and I explain as best I can how the wheel
cuts into the can; it's hard to feel. But the click as
the cover unattaches is very noticeable, and
Serena certainly knows when it occurs. Again we
discuss handling the sharp edge of the top with care. Then little fingers dip into the liquid within
for licking.
Among the food my children like to cook the
most are eggs and fish. Eggs make the supreme
mess, I'm sure that's why. We crack them hand
over hand and then, I have to admit, I let them
stick their hands into the slime below. They love
it. We wash our hands again. Fish is fun because
they get to slap it into the pan. They really like
doing that. They even enjoy having smelly hands.
I make them wash up again.
For some unknown reason both of my children
believe that they should make the messes and
Mom should clean them up. They are unanimous
about this and unwavering. I have not yet conceived
of an effective means of combating their
united stance. I do a lot of sweeping up of raw rice
and elbow macaroni and cous cous.
But now to the end result. Dad comes home. The
sweet smell of supper wafts through the air. The
kids are hungry for food that they cooked. Our
family will eat tonight.
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