Day 32

For anyone fortunate enough to be unfamiliar with Gardner's concept of multiple intelligences - basically his theory is that there is no 'smart' or 'dumb' - just a variation in where a person's intelligence lies. So you might have a high level of 'interpersonal intelligence' but be comparatively hopeless at 'logical' stuff. Or you might be 'spatially gifted' (like every man thinks he is with a street directory) but the thickest person in the world when it comes to musical stuff. Last count, I think he had identified nine different intelligences.

Well, I propose a tenth.

'Culinary intelligence' - being the ability to cope with the preparation of food in all its forms.

I propose this because, while I am reasonably smart, and have a decent enough IQ on a good day, put me in the kitchen and I probably should qualify for some sort of disability funding.

Have a lovely friend staying this weekend, and so for a bit of fun I suggested that we choose a recipe out of a nice cook book (those nice ones that I have in my kitchen because they look pretty) and then we cook it for dinner. By 'we', I mean my friend cooks the food, while I hover in the general vicinity of the oven and amuse myself in a largely spectating role. All went to plan, and main course was fabulous. I'm serious when I say that my sole contribution to this meal was picking some rosemary and some mint - both of which I needed significant help to identify. I may also have gotten a few ingredients out of the fridge.

Lava? Or burnt sugar?

By dessert, I had run out of dishes to wash up, and the kids were already in bed - I was left with no choice but to face the fear and actually help with the cooking. My tiny little corner of the recipe called for one pan and two ingredients - one of which was water. This should not pose a problem for a grown woman of twenty-nine, with two dependant children and a current drivers licence, right? Fifteen minutes later, and I had smoked out the whole building, ruined a saucepan, and created what is possibly the most scientifically magnificent model of an active volcano in recorded history. Meanwhile, my sweet, patient friend has created a perfectly baked set of pastry cups into which I am supposed to be pouring my now ruined caramel. I started over, this time with much closer supervision from my friend, and slightly stinging eyes.

The thing that possibly disturbs me most about this scenario, is the vast, unbridgeable distance between her culinary intelligence and mine... given that she is fourteen years old. It's game over - I have run out of time to make that kind of a gap up!! I guess you've either got it or you haven't, and clearly I haven't ever even gotten close to having it.

So as much as I would love to be able to extend my discipline into the wonderful world of cooking (and attempts have been made, believe me), that is why I remain committed to packet mixes, ready-mades and anything microwaveable or instant. It is also why I get on my knees every day and thank the good Lord in His wisdom for seeing fit to send me a man like Dave, who is the ultimate 'no-frills' diner.

In other news, my Mum started reading my blog *waves to Mum*. This is a big deal for several reasons - one of those being that I'm pretty sure up until now she thought 'blog' was a euphemism for an extraordinarily large bowel movement. It is to my sweet mother that I owe my deep and abiding horror of cooking, although fortunately I get both my brains and superb good looks from her. Yeah baby, Gardner wishes he had that kind of intelligence on tap. In his dreams. ;)

M xx