Men who Cook

When a mom is raising sons, she has to decide what kind of men she wants to raise. For me, raising men who cook was a top priority. (It's no coincidence that the romantic heroes in my books are often found in the kitchen.)

My dad always cooked. Although Mom usually did most of the cooking, Dad worked beside her--cutting up a salad, prepping fresh fruit and vegetables, chopping onions for the dish she was cooking. If Mom was the chef, Dad was the prep cook. When Mom was needed elsewhere, he could take over and run the whole show--which he frequently did. My brothers learned both by example and by being taught, invited into the kitchen and told how to help.

The family that raised my husband did not take the same approach. Though he is usually willing--and decades of experience have taught him how to throw a few kinds of meals together if necessary--Hubby prefers to bake goodies, his one great cooking expertise.

When our genetic mix produced sons, I was determined they would learn to cook. It worked well for most of them. The one great exception is the boy who took "Foods" four years in high school, but never really learned to cook anything.

My eldest can cook all kinds of foods, but like many men, he specializes in barbeque. His BBQ wins awards and gets him invitations to cook for crowds at parties and fund raisers. He's also a superior breakfast cook.

Son #2 is a chef. "Cooking is creation," he likes to say, "but baking is chemistry." While he largely leaves the baking to others, he subscribes to foodie magazines, watches the Food Network on TV, and experiments constantly with recipes. At the end of a stressful day, he unwinds in the kitchen, leaving his wife free to take on other duties such as helping the kids with homework.

One of his more enjoyable work conferences featured an onstage cooking performance and a meal prepared by celebrity chef Guy Fieri. Anyone who knows my son will not be surprised to know that he skipped a chunk of the conference to introduce himself in the kitchen and ask, "Do you need any help?" He spent the rest of the day working side-by-side with the famous chef and even helping in his onstage show. Teaching this son to cook produced not only a fine household chef, but a bold and polished showman who loves the kitchen.

Like his showman brother, our youngest watches the Food Network, studies recipes, and experiments with variations. He's the one who created a "flying pig" for Thanksgiving last year. You've heard of the Turducken--the deboned chicken stuffed inside a deboned duck which is then stuffed into a deboned turkey and all of it stuffed with stuffing? The "flying pig" takes it one step farther with a layer of ham as well as some bacon in part of the stuffing. Talk about a gourmet treat! I felt rather smug when I saw what had come from teaching this son to cook. This son is coming this weekend to bake Halloween goodies with his wife and (adorable, of course!) children.

Son #4, the one who spent most of three years living in Korea, has learned to prepare Korean food together with a number of other meals and can easily take over the kitchen if his wife is busy elsewhere or he just feels like it. So can Son #5, although he is generally less interested and tends to leave the cooking--except for the outdoor BBQ--to his wife.

It's been an adventure to see how my efforts to raise men who cook have produced such varied results--everything from the son who can hold his own with the best to the one who thinks micro-waving a hot dog is the height of culinary effort. It should also be mentioned here that I have one daughter, who is an excellent cook.

One never knows how parental teaching will play out, but I was gifted with cooks. My daughters-in-law, son-in-law, and grandchildren are glad I made the effort.

Susan Aylworth is the author of 14 novels, all available as e-books. She loves her northern California home which she shares with her husband of 46 years and the two spoiled cats they serve. When she can't be with her seven children, seven great kids-in-law, and 25 grandbabies, she loves hanging with her fictional offspring, the children of her mind. She also loves hearing from readers. Visit her website at www.susanaylworth.com or find her @SusanAylworth, at .facebook.com/Susan.Aylworth.Author, or on Pinterest.

Intentional Omissions

Some people ask me why I don’t put recipes in my books. They point out that I often mention food, and cooking, especially in my current work in progress, and they also say that many successful mystery series have featured recipes.

All true.

Here is my response.

A.      I rarely cook. I can make some food my children liked when they were small, a Friday night chicken dinner, great brisket, and little else.  My husband does most of the cooking, which is why we don’t starve or eat cereal for dinner (which I do when he isn’t home.)

B.      I don’t like to cook. Pots require watching, stirring, tasting, all of which slips my mind, which inevitably wanders elsewhere.

C.      None of my recipes are my own, meaning that I would be publishing something that wasn’t rightfully mine. My husband makes up recipes all the time, but never writes them down. Whenever I try to do that, it requires take-out food.

As much as I don’t like to cook, I do like to bake, and I am pretty good at it. I can look at a recipe and tell whether it is worth the effort, or whether I should leave the cookbook page undirtied by splatters and crumbs.  Most of the time I am right and there are few pages in any of my cookbooks that advise me to not try that at home.

I mostly make cakes and challah, some pies, some cheesecakes, and sometimes a gallette or a clafoutie. I also used to decorate cakes for birthdays and other occasions.

I’ve done cakes of people’s faces, gym bags, tie-dyed tee shirts, a miniature golf course, a computer, and a basket of flowers for my mother that the restaurant did not realize was a birthday cake. I also did a wedding cake once, keeping it simple with fresh flower decorations. Luckily, I had time to wipe away the condensation in the humid venue before the bride saw it.

When I have a book signing, I do it at home, completely covering my dining room table with home baked goods, fruit, and cheeses. I serve wine and I honestly think I care more about people eating than buying  books.

What I like about baking is the simplicity (okay, not always) of making a recipe, measuring ingredients, mixing them as directed, and putting them into the required baking pan and then into the oven. I can set the time and do whatever I want until it goes off.

However, as with cooking, and maybe even more so, I cannot share my recipes with readers. They were not handed down to me through the generations, they come from cookbooks, magazines, and from the internet. They all belong to someone else. Sure I might tweak a recipe slightly to enhance the flavor, but I don’t do it much. I get rave reviews when I bake for other people, and I do share recipes, but I don’t take credit for them.

So I don’t put recipes in books. What I do put in is a slice of me, a pinch of my family, a dollop of my husband, a scintilla of reality, all completely my own. And that is what I’m willing to publish.