The reverse, of course, being foods that another person likes only when you cook them.
My stepdaughter knows perfectly well how to make a chicken casserole; my mother taught just as she taught me. Nonetheless, Cinderella the Rhymer for some reason feels that I, alone among the Rhymers and perhaps uniquely in civilization, can make it to suit her.
One of my sisters feels the same way about lemon cheesecake, though she is in general a much better cook than I. She likes me to make hers for her.
Rhymers are odd, of course. But not so odd that we are the only persons who feel this way, I think. Anybody else?
My grandmother used to make a type of fried-in-oil potato dish that was absolutely fantastic, and while my mother asked her for the recipe, the old lady took it to her grave. I’ve never met anyone who’s been able to do the recipe justice, despite many attempts.
It just so happened that at last night’s dinner L declared that she only liked eggplant parmesan when tygre (aka “Momo”) cooked it. Since L usually eats everything not nailed down, that might be unique.
My husband feels that there are certain dishes that only I make properly. He’ll eat a grilled cheese sandwich made by just about anyone, but only I make it right. I don’t understand this. He also feels that I have perfected the sauce to use for spaghetti, manicotti, and lasagna. There’s some justification for this, because over 30+ years, I’ve tweaked my recipe to suit our tastes. I put in ground meat, onions, mushrooms, bell pepper, and garlic, and most restaurants leave one or more of those ingredients out. He is unhappy with any restaurant’s version of spaghetti, manicotti, or lasagna. He also feels that my meatloaf is superior to just about anyone else’s, homemade or commercial, but he’ll eat meatloaf from other sources and enjoy it. Just not as much as my meatloaf.
On the other hand, I really don’t understand cooking liver. Nor do I understand eating liver voluntarily, which might have something to do with not being able to cook it. I have failed, many times, to produce an edible liver and onion meal for him. Now he either cooks it himself or orders it when we go to Mimi’s.
It’s by far the most delectable, peanut butter-iest peanut butter fudge I’ve ever had the pleasure of stuffing down my gullet. And I’m not the only one who felt this way. Year round, she had tons of requests from coworkers, family, friends, and friends of friends to make them a batch (or two, or twelve) of her singular fudge.
Thing is, though, she made it so damned much she had the recipe committed to memory, and she never took me through the steps whilst she was living, so that fudge (which, if I could make it as good as she did, I could start a business making and selling it, and live a life of luxury from all the profits) essentially died when she did.
I don’t recall ever soaking the liver in milk, first, but my husband doesn’t either. And he likes HIS version of liver’n’onions just fine. He learned it from his mother, who was Cajun, if it matters. I think that he might use milk in the gravy, but it’s been a while since I’ve watched him cook it.
My husband and I share dinner cooking duties, however he swears that my nachos are superior to his, despite the fact that I taught him how to make them in the first place!
I would eat meatloaf or sloppy joe at my mom’s house every day if she cooked it.
I would never in a million years order meatloaf or sloppy joe at a restaurant. I’ve also yet to enjoy anyone else’s meat loaf or sloppy joe.
It’s not that she is the only one who can do her recipes right (I could probably cook them just fine) it’s just the way she has decided to make those two dishes, and how my tastes developed around them.
I also think those are two dishes that can be interpreted in many different ways. I am not interested in trying the other ways
I never had mac & cheese growing up, because I had my mom’s macaroni and cheese casserole. When I was a teen and presented with actual Mac & Cheese (the Kraft stuff), it looked disgusting. I can eat it, but I much prefer my mom’s.
My grandmother’s lemon meringue pie made me assume that I loved lemon meringue pie in general, but every time I’ve eaten someone else’s, I’ve been disappointed (not tart enough, or the meringue is not perfect, etc.).
Tuna macaroni salad is decent when other people make it… but when mom makes it, it is perfect. A little zippy from the miracle whip, the perfect amount of lemon pepper. My fiance’ got close once- ONCE!
My wife always says she prefers my own cooking to just about anyone else’s, especially to most restaurant or store bought cooking. I know what I’m doing, and I’m good at it. I also know how to tailor dishes to the most nuanced, and specific tastes of my family.
I generally prefer my own cooking too, though I’ve never quite been able to get red beans and rice as good as my mom’s were.
