I do not play any instruments, nor do I paint, do pottery, or any of the creative arts that my neighbors and friends seem to be so talented in doing. Honestly, my only outlet would be cooking, which I have been doing for family and entertaining for the better part of 50 years. Good, bad, great, or just so-so, this is not a task for me.  But something I get to do many times a day and, instead of something just sitting around –  we get to eat it! GONE, waiting for another creation in a few hours. 

We do subscribe to several food and cooking magazines, and I do read them cover to cover. Sometimes I am tempted to purchase a brand-new complete set of pots/pans. The newest thing!! Promises of “healthy cooking,” “cutting edge cookware,” and “new inspirations!” But I look at my two well-seasoned cast iron skillets – one once belonging to my mother, my pots, one with a mismatched lid, and all the others that I have come to know well. 

Which one has a slightly tilted bottom, what lids are interchangeable with which pans – kind of like the relationships I have cultivated over the years. I don’t feel the need to start all over again with strangers who don’t know how I cook. 

And talk about different spices? I don’t want to insult anyone with a different background than mine, but I have to ask. Where do I get North Sumatran Sambal Andaliman or one tablespoon of Tajin seasoning (I am not making this up, these are real recipes that call for these ingredients)? 

But I digress….

Lately, I have taken up golf. My friend Sandy and I took lessons together, and now we play twice a week. HOWEVER, I heard someone say to play often is not necessarily to play well. Yes, we are getting better – sometimes. After each round of nine holes (not ready for 18), I always say the same thing, “Not great, but not terrible.” Sandy thinks I should make a shirt (collared, of course) that says that on the back. 

So how is cooking, like golf, you may be asking? 

After watching the PGA tournament last Sunday, I began to think perhaps I could play better with the four different types of golf balls that were being advertised. Surely that $300 iron would help me make par. It must be the shoes, the shoes, of course! I’m not getting the proper stance! So exactly how did Jim Barnes win that tournament in October 1916 without all this titanium and ionomer resin?

As someone I heard on the course say, “Just hit the ball!”  As I say most evenings, “Dinner’s ready!”