Mother Kitchen | Monday #FreeWrite Prompt
Mother Kitchen | Monday #FreeWrite Prompt
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Image from personal file (modified at fotoram.io)
Greetings, everyone
This is my entry to the #freewrite 5-minute exercise hosted by @mariannewest. See details here.
The kitchen has been inextricably linked to memories of my mother, her cuisine, her chats, and her joys and pains. Even though the kitchen has a sexist connotation due to the gender specific task associated with womanhood, in my family the kitchen was a space open to men too. There was nothing we could not and were not expected to do; so much so that all of my 5 brothers are excellent cooks. In their homes they cook more than their wives.
Much of this we owe to the endless conversations that were held in our home’s kitchen. That was our conference room. The mistake of one was the mistake of all. Every one of us would get scolded, reprimanded and warned if one screwed up. Before a delicious meal or while we were at it, our mother would give us a piece of her mind. She has always had much to give. Her whole life was somehow defined by a kitchen and all the things she learned from early age. In her generation, it was in a kitchen that a female became a woman, even if you were only 9 years old. You learned about duties, about men (and how to conquer their hearts from their stomachs), about raising children, and about taking control of a family.
Learning to cook was never a synonym of being submissive, and that applied to both males and females in our household. The kitchen was the command center where instructions and affection were given and received.
I can close my eyes and smell every dish my mother ever cooked. I can hear the oil browning the fish or the bananas; I can smell the brewing coffee and feel the frothy milk being added to make our favorite breakfast drink. I can taste the crunchy arepas that were always prepared in abundance, just in case a hungry relative or friend showed up unannounced (as it was customary).
[End of 5 minutes]
The kitchen was the place where we received our visitors. They knew my mother or someone else would always be there. It was like that for many years until everyone started to leave and the house was mostly alone with the two aging heads of the family finding company in cats, dogs or parrots. Arara, our macaw, became in her time the guardian of the kitchen. People stopped showing up unannounced after the fierce bird showed them she had a beak that could compete with a Pit Bull’s jaw.
Beautiful Arara in her prime. She could not fly due to an injury, but she would extend her wings and run after anyone who dares enter my mother's kitchen unannounced.
That kitchen of my childhood will be desolate very soon. My mother has been forced by bad apples, circumstances, and ingratitude to abandon our beloved house. She does not have the strength and health to be the controlling force of another kitchen, but I’m sure she’ll still sneak in and add a pinch of salt here and there.
Thanks for your visit
I truly enjoyed reading your story about your mother's kitchen. That room is often the center of a household, and that was true in our home, as well, when I was growing up. I always involved my children in cooking and baking, and they all do very well in the kitchen as grown-ups. That macaw certainly sounds like a bird with its own mind!
Thanks for stopping by. It's good to find connections with people with similar approaches to some family "businesses" :)
A slightly sad story. I was moved that your mother does not govern her kitchen, that is very important for them. My mother still owns her kitchen and runs her house, no one else could do it, she is very strong despite her age.
Regards, my friend!
Greetings, my dear friend.
You know how it works in our culture. The strength of our mothers, their sense of pride and authority, comes from how useful they can be, how independent and respected. When they lose that and they are disrespected by a new generation of members of the family things can turn very emotionally tragic.
She feels like a stranger in her own home.
I'm glad your mom still has control of things :)
The kitchen is the heart of the home. It's also my kingdom (notice the gender biased word...hmmm...) I am sorry to hear your mother is not well
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Thanks.
Queendom sounds good. We may start using it
Sounds familiar, I'm a Mum too😃
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Glad you can relate
Yes sir 😊
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This piece is very beautiful!
The kitchen was the command center where instructions and affection were given and received
I wish you, your mother and all of Venezuela a return to health and strength.
I'm here to deliver the Tuesday prompt so please write us another!
https://steempeak.com/freewrite/@mariannewest/day-662-5-minute-freewrite-tuesday-prompt-digital-human
Thank you very much.
With us the kitchen also was public room and visitors came too through the kitchen door. It was were life was no tiptoeing.
With us too boys and girls had the same tasks not only if it comes to cooking but also house chores, knitting, etc.
At my granny's it was the same, but she only let you watch or hand over things. It had all to be done very precisely and clean.
I started cooking with 7 also collecting recipes, still have them.
Still smell and taste the old recipes too. They are no there any longer. No one can cook the way my great uncle did.
Sorry to hear your mother has to leave her kitchen but I too believe she will walk into some kitchens with salt and advice. People like her are gold.
💕
P.s. Arara is gold 😍
Thank you so much for your beautiful comment. It's good to know people with similar backgrounds and experiences.
Our elders' generation was unique. In my case, I doubt my generation will honor their legacy.
For one thing, they were the center and balance of the family. They knew how to keep everyone in check. Today I breathe conflicts and disunion around family members and they don't seem to care. With the crisis it has been hard to keep family traditions alive and that has contributed to family dismemberment.
It will take another generation to recover our past customs and traditions.
My granny always been the head of the family. They all listened to her. As she passed away the whole family broke up. Fights, envy, divorces and emigrated to different parts of the world. No bond, no responsibilities for each other.
I try to teach it to my children. To keep them close and tell them they only have each other. I hope that will bring value to their lives.
It is a strange thing. So many complain about it, lack of help, interest, a bond, being lonesome but if it comes to it nobody wants to invest in someone else. We are too busy (but have time for hours tv and internet).
💕
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