Society lives by stereotypes. And one of the most enduring is the concept of the mother of several children as an inspired bustle in the kitchen. It is in the field of cooking. Especially if such a mother, hiding behind her children, also does not work either in production or in the office at worst, a parasite. She must do something to justify her existence.
For example, a hot buffet breakfast in a small hotel. And a daily three-course lunch with salad and cold appetizers, each family member individually ordered. And home-made buns, piping hot, with homemade jam for an afternoon snack. And a turkey baked in apples with a complex side dish for a family dinner. Well, you have to do something twenty-four hours a day, right? Considering that cinders, in principle, are almost autonomous and tied to each other, to the church, that is, to the church, to my shame, I go rarely and irregularly, the third big K remains: the kitchen.
If only I could cook less. Therefore, I always run into the kitchen at a gallop and do everything quickly, clearly, without unnecessary movements, like a pearl collector in the pre-scuba era, who has a minute and a half air supply in his lungs. It’s only when I emerge from the kitchen in a semi-comatose state that I take a deep breath. And exhale.
And inhale again. And I am alive. Holidays are a special test for me. After all, a holiday in the understanding of a Russian person is, first of all, a table under a white tablecloth, and on it are plates, dishes, bowls and salad bowls, from which various snacks look appetizing. Without five or six salads, cold cuts, portioned hot meat and half a bucket of baked potatoes or pilaf – at least don’t invite guests, because it’s indecent. They will say – she called, but there is nothing to eat … Almost “why was it then to invite.”
And no matter how young we tried to break this stupid old man’s tradition, whatever we invented, it didn’t work out. For – well, how else to celebrate the holidays in a two-room apartment lined with furniture? In a room four by four meters, where, in addition to the two sofas living there, cabinet furniture and household members, eight to ten more guests are invited? Because you can’t not invite your grandmother, Aunt Nina will definitely come with her husband, Olay with her boyfriend.
Tanesha with children, she has nowhere to have them, but okay, they will hang out with ours. Dima, it turns out, will be alone, or something – no, that’s not good, you have to ask Olay to take some girlfriend, well, at least Vera, or something … Or is Vera married? Then Natasha … Well, Boris Leonidovich and his wife, without them in any way. Buffet, you say, in a Western manner? Snacks on the table in the corner? Somehow it is not our way. This chow, and do not offer to sit down? .. In addition, such a huge motley crowd in the room will only fit elbow to elbow along the perimeter, around the table.
Under a white tablecloth. And on the table – dishes and salad bowls, and meat in pots, and a cast iron pilaf in the middle, and misted bottles. Yes, I tried, to be honest, to invite fewer guests and get by with a buffet table, especially since it’s easy for me to find excuses too – late pregnancy regularly happens to me, for example, so you can refer to it; but no – so on the baby in the house, which I almost always have. But our people do not understand the buffet.
A buffet table with sandwiches and canapes is brought to the center of the room, guests sit around it, and the hostess urgently goes to fry potatoes. Here’s your buffet. And there are many holidays in a large family. Some birthdays – five pieces, and even better when you manage in one day. Most often, a birthday is divided into two parts – today is friends, tomorrow is relatives. Today adults, tomorrow – children from the class. Today they’ll come home from work – we’ll sit down, but tomorrow let’s call the Kuzmina, the Suvorov’s, and since we’ll cook anyway, maybe Andrey.
Katya and Seryozhka? And besides birthdays, there are enough feasts. New Year, Christmas, Easter, because, although we don’t go to the church, we set the table on church holidays regularly, all sorts of eighth of March and May Day, and “how we haven’t seen each other for a long time, maybe we’ll meet, sit down?” happen – well, how else to celebrate them? Only at the table. The soul demands a banquet … No, they tried it in a café, but how about it.
But there is something wrong there. At home you can drink, relax, yell songs, strum the guitar, play table hockey, stay up late at night. In addition, we have “children,” as they say in the authoritative run-childfree community, and it’s not very convenient with them in café-restaurants. You won’t sit for long, and in general. At home, they will always find something to do, and on the road – a hundred problems. Well, those who are not childfree will understand me, and childfree will understand even better.00