This is a post borne out of Joanna’s writing prompt over at Wisdom Within, Ink – A Memory of Cabbage.
When I think of cabbage, I remember my grandmother making golabki – wanna hear how that’s pronounced? gaw-Woom-key. How strange is that? I’ve gone 39 years hearing the word and never seeing it spelled. It’s stuffed cabbage, by the way. Polish sure is a funny language. And yes, I can say that as I’m 100% Polish.
At any rate, I remember the house having particular smells for hours before eating dinner as a child. Some good smells and some not so good. Cabbage smelled not so good – definitely better than the leg of lamb my mom tried once (eeww!) – but it tasted really great, and definitely better than stuffed green peppers. The texture was soft and the filling was made with ground meat and rice. I doubt I could get my kids to eat that stuff these days, but maybe. My middle child likes pierogis – Polish dumplings.
I loved smelling the smells of dinner, with my stomach growling and the yummy smells emanating from the kitchen. Tonight there will be no yummy smells as I’ve asked the hubby to pick up some crap from the Mc. Ds or something. Yeah, I’m having a bad day. Yes, believe it or not I’m considering taking up drinking as a hobby (boy the things that you don’t seem to care about when you have a few beers). Just because I’m having a bad stay at home mom day. No, the kids are fine, I’m just disillusioned, that’s all.
I do try to make home-cooked meals, but it’s not the same. As an adult, I don’t have the same warm feelings as I did as a child, smelling some wonderful smells and being reminded of good, warm, home cooking. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong – maybe it’s because I’m the one doing all the work.
In my childhood home, even though my mom was a jerk a lot, there was always succulent meats and savory sauces cooking (and she did start her own fairly successful catering business if that tells you anything), and well, it just doesn’t have the same smell in my home that it used to as a kid. Maybe I need to hit my mother up for her old recipes before she won’t give them to me anymore.
Something is just not the same and I feel badly about that. Maybe it’s because I have kids that are so picky, that we cook more bland stuff. Maybe it’s time to try more traditional cooking. Not tonight though.