A Dollar’s WorthBy Alisa Dollar
I was cleaning out my pantry and found a cookbook that made me smile.
First, to understand completely, one has to understand there’s a kitchen because it came with the house. I didn’t win the Betty Crocker award like sister Gerri. And even though other sister Nancy didn’t win that award, she must have made a better grade in home economics than I.
I don’t read cookbooks like my friend Kay. I still can’t get that through my diet coke ridden brain and Cheetos stained fingers.
I’ve collected many cookbooks over the years and I’m unsure why. Some were mothers and some I bought from various churches and organizations in towns we’ve lived. And yes, I bought them out of guilt and with hopes these people thought I cooked and with higher hopes they’d never come to dinner.
As I was rearranging and trying to figure out what I was going to do with all these dusty and mostly unused books, I found one in the corner of the pantry, on the floor and behind an unused bread maker. This is how often I use cookbooks. This one in particular made me smile.
It’s by Frankston’s very own GeGe Selman.
I (REALLY) Hate to Cook Cookbook.
I bought this one knowing I would have a familial bond with the author, especially after I met her. And even though her grocery had the neatest shelves ever, I knew she spoke “Alisa cook”.
I must have totally forgotten this bond since it was shoved with all my cookbooks of cooks who must have liked to cook. This particular one had really gone to the wayside.
It must have known I was “really” a lost cause.
I put it in my stack to keep.
There’s a happy ending to this
I made bread in the bread maker. It still had the directions inside. How lucky for me. I made a loaf for communion and no one gagged or keeled over, so it must’ve been okay. Either that or God was smiling favorably on me; or them.
I kept all the cookbooks. I’m not sure why.
I figured if my sisters looked in the pantry they’d see them all lined up in order of height, Ge Ge’s being the tallest.
Of course they are still on the floor and I’m guessing they’ll wonder why they aren’t eye level.
The answer’s easy.
That’s where the Cheetos are.