no canning

I will never be able to cook what my mom cooks.

I can scour the pantry and fridge and find nothing. She can follow behind me five minutes later and produce a full meal from what she finds. It is always delicious. I am always impressed.

There is a running joke in the Andrasi House: mom isn't allowed to can.

The process of canning requires precise measurement and strict rule following on temperatures, ingredients and timing.

My mom rarely follows a recipe. Her instinct drives the decisions she makes in the kitchen. She is impeccable when it comes to timing all parts of a meal to finish cooking at the right moment. Even when she first  tries a recipe she makes substitutions and adjustments based on what is in the house.

When I call her to ask how to prepare something, her instructions are off the top of her head and usually a ballpark estimate.

Years of experience allow her to move with ease and roll her eyes when I ask if she is sure the meat is cooked enough. Has she ever given me food poisoning? No.

I may never be able to cook exactly what my mom cooks...but I am learning to cook how my mom cooks.

I like that better.

Last night I made salmon, cous cous and broccoli. My favorite meal. I have watched my mom cook it a thousand times. I've helped her cook it a thousand more. I have yet to get it right on my own. Usually I call her right before dinner and run through the process one more time. Last night I skipped the phone call and jumped right in.

The cous cous and broccoli worked out great. I had instruction for those:

http://www.amazon.com/Whats-Cook-Illustrated-Essential-Techniques/dp/1579653189

[I swear by this book. It is the best. You can buy it used for 1 cent. Just do it. I wish someone would pay me to say that] 

There is probably an entry in that book about how to cook salmon. If so, I didn't use it. I threw some seasoning on that I found in my cabinet. If I were at home in Austin there would be plenty of lemon pepper on hand - I'm still perfecting the art of keeping staples in supply.

I poured olive oil in a pan. Too much olive oil. I heated it. Too hot.

I laid the fish scale side down and it immediately began to crisp. I watched the raw pink fade to opaque. The bottom was burning before the top had a chance to cook. I removed it from the fire and covered it with a lid. That actually worked.

In the end the fish was cooked and it was pretty good - though not exactly like my mom's.

I like stepping away from a recipe, away from direct step by step instructions. It gives me a chance to explore and discover new ways to do things. I know some basic guardrails: if the fish is raw you can see through it, if it smells like burning you should get it off the heat, a lid transforms your skillet into a sort of oven.

I like having an end goal in mind and playing with different ways to get there. It's a little more fun, and I feel a little more accomplished when dinnertime finally rolls around. My timing and process get better with each practice round and perfection isn't reality.

No, I may never be able to cook what my mom cooks. But she gave me skills to get dinner on the table and play on the way there - and I'll take that over a box full of recipes any day.