"Lynn from Fargo" > wrote in message
...
> When I was five I begged my mother to let me cook. She said anyone who
> wants to be a good cook must know how to read. So I taught myself to
> read. When I could sort of stumble through stuff she made me read the
> directions on the Jello box. When I could do that (albeit) with
> coaching, I made , , , Jello. It was all smooth sailing from there
> (well, mostly).
>
> My mother was a good and adventuresome cook. I remember Chinese food
> from a cookbook by some nuns from Peking/Beijing borrowed from the
> library. She spent years trying to recapture the English foods my dad
> grew up on - lemon curd tarts, Yorkshire Pudding, Boiled dinner with
> suet pudding, beef and potatoes . . .
>
> I made my first entire meal at between eight and nine years old.
> Venison Swiss Steak, baked potatoes, green beans and butterscotch
> pudding. Then I used to wait until the grown ups were gone and go
> into the kitchen and experiment. No wonder they would never give me a
> chemistry set for my birthday.
>
> Later on she turned me on to Julia (I bought the books!) and the
> Frugal Gourmet, but my strongest skill is walking into somebody else's
> kitchen and improvising a meal from whatever I can scrounge up -
> occasionally a disaster, but almost always edible.
>
> Now I am retired due to disability, I live alone and HATE to cook for
> one. If you're ever in North Dakota . . .
>
> Lynn from Fargo

That last part is sad, and makes me want to drop by, but I'm 2,500 miles
northeast of you. :-( Maybe when I visit my friend in California we could
work something out.