Today, I kicked my mother out of the kitchen. AGAIN. I’m not often at home. And the longer I’m away, I realise just how loud everything is.
However, I was volunteering to do the cooking today, so my mother could, maybe just relax or I don’t know, read a book or so. But everytime she just keeps showing up, asking whether I’m sure I want to do it THIS way, “wouldn’t you rather… [insert some stuff here that I should do just because she has always done it like that]”. When I told her, if she wanted to lend a helping hand, she could mix eggs and creme fraiche (it was going to be a delicious quiche). So she took the electric mixer out of the cupboard. I said using a fork would be perfectly fine, but she insisted she wanted it to be more “foamy”. What she didn’t know was that the baking form would be full to the brim already without the egg fluffing anything up additionally. So I thought (and was quite mistaken obviously) simply telling her not to do it would be enough. But it wasn’t and she kept rambling on. And as it is, and I guess some of you can very well relate to that, I did not tell her why I thought it would not be a good idea, but snapped instead. Because simply doing what is being told is taking it too far, I guess.
As I told you already: Cooking is chemistry. And if cooking is chemistry, the kitchen is MY BLOODY LAB. And in MY LAB there will happen what I think best.
*deep breating* Anyway, the good news for you: I will share the recipe for the quiche, after some thought. I hope you are able to make it without fuss.
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