My oldest has been in the kitchen since, oh, I don’t know, birth.
He was the kind of baby that was happy all time, provided that you held him, ALL the time.
So, pretty much every meal I made in those early days was prepared with one hand. When he got a little bigger, he’d sit in his little chair as I scurried around the kitchen, tossing things into the pot, quickly as I could, while doing my best to entertain him. I sang “Mama’s little baby loves chicken and pasta…” and passed him spoons to bang and then hurl overboard.
Just as soon as he could manage it though, he was on a stool at the counter, “helping.” He liked to dump ingredients in for me, and stir. He loved to cut out the biscuits or cookies. Anything at all that those little hands could do, they wanted to do, “all by myself!”
And now, he really can do it all by himself.
My boy made cookies today, start to finish, on his own.
If you look really closely, you can see the reflection of a proud mama in the mixing bowl.
I was banished from the kitchen – sweetly, but ever so firmly, told to sit at the bar and leave him to his culinary magic.
It was hard, REAL hard, not to step in, but I didn’t and he did it, all by himself.
His cookies were beyond delicious. He was so proud, as he passed his goods to his brothers who gave him full mouthed, mid-chew praises, “Mmmmm! Lukie, you’re a really great cooker!”
Indeed he is.
In the morning, we’ll be packing his cookies in a basket with a couple of jars of apple butter and heading off to Granny’s house for a few day’s visit.
While we’re out, my little chef highly recommends that you make up a batch (or four) of “his” cookies.
In truth though, it was our truly thoughtful friends who passed along this highly addictive recipe and also a ginormous bottle of Saigon Cinnamon. Do you know about this stuff? If not, trust me, and the other house chef, when we say that you must run right out and find some.
It’s nearly as divine as my earnest little baker. 🙂