Kids Can Cook

Sometimes you need a good kick in the ass.

Oh yeah. Happy Valentine’s Day. You know, to those who celebrate. It’s also Ash Wednesday. Hopefully you had an enjoyable Fat Tuesday.

Last night I was lucky enough to be one of the parents checking out Tech Valley High School, which even though I’ve now seen it with my own eyes, doesn’t actually seem entirely real. It’s a bummer that admission is based on a lottery instead of interest or talent, because my little budding computer scientist would love nothing more than to spend his days applying math and science to solving problems.

But so it goes.

Earlier on Fat Tuesday I was actually getting fat, and feasting on a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches from The Cheese Traveler. It was my first time in the shop since I had to vote against them at Melt N’ Toast. The catharsis is real. And maybe it was good that Eric wasn’t there.

Baby steps.

As I was eating grilled cheese sandwiches, thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches, and talking about grilled cheese sandwiches, an interesting topic arose. At what age can a kid be taught to make a grilled cheese sandwich?

My hunch is that Mrs. Fussy would say six.

This all goes back to an article she read about a six year old girl working off a riverboat fare somewhere in South America by catching crabs and cooking them for the people on the boat. That’s the only part of the story I remember.

Certainly it wasn’t present-day New York. I don’t think you can leave your eight year old for five minutes in the car without being arrested for child abuse.

Anyway, over grilled cheese sandwiches, my new friend Sara and I came to the conclusion that nine years old was certainly old enough to be able to make your own grilled cheese sandwich.

Enter Little Miss Fussy.

Thanks to fake-aunt Amy, who is sometimes called Awesome Amy up in the Fussy Household, LMF has a new baking kit. There have been sparkly cupcakes, buttercream frostings, and most recently a three tiered fairy cake with a fondant dress.

Yes, she’s needed a little bit of help to execute these tasks, but she’s competent in the kitchen.

Not that I’ve spent any time teaching her how to cook. She can heat things in the microwave. She can make cinnamon toast. But that’s not cooking.

Grilled cheese sandwiches. She is absolutely old enough to learn how to make a grilled cheese sandwich. And after bringing up the topic with her yesterday, she’s excited about the opportunity to actually cook real food.

It never would have even occurred to me if my lunch partner had not mentioned how her own love of grilled cheese came from learning to cook them as a kid. Everyone has to start somewhere. For me, the first thing I remember cooking on my own was meat sauce. But that’s another story. It may even be one I’ve told at some point on the blog in the past.

If someone finds it, I’ll buy them a beer. But only the first person who leaves a link to the story in the comments section below. However, be forewarned, it may be a snipe hunt. It may be a story I haven’t told yet. Although it’s hard to believe such a thing exists.