Why Drinking Wine While Cooking is Good for the Soul

When I look back on my twenties, I often wonder what it was that kept me going. I was a terrible cook, had two new kids underfoot, a job, and a not-so-good attitude about my life. Where was my life headed? What was my purpose? Diapers, preschool,cooking,cleaning,laundry and working at a theater were my life. Not at all what I had expected for myself.

When I was a teen, I had visions of getting a degree, and being somebody. But who was I? I was just some mamma headed nowhere. Well, doesn't time change things!

About two years ago, I decided to try a bottle of cheap wine. No particular reason, just to see what the particular wine tasted like. Perhaps it was the suggestion of a friend to try some Reisling, though I can't recall.

I brought it home, and pulled out my corkscrew out from under a hundred other unused untensils in my bottom drawer in the kitchen. I rinsed it off, as it must have been there for a decade or more. I stuck it into the bottle. Well, what's this? Do the little thingies on the side of the corkscrew go up? Or down? I started screwing it left, then right. It just wasn't working. It dawned on me that I needed to take the aluminum off the top of the blasted thing. I had gotten so frustrated that I was realizing that I was going to need a crowbar or a rock to get the blasted thing open!

After several attempts, and tearing the cork up quite nicely, I decided to look back in my trusty bottom drawer for heftier tools to get the job done. I found a paring knife, and a small hammer. I pushed the handled part of the knife into the half gone cork, and hammered the cork down, down, down, and finally, Success! The cork, with all it's bits and pieces, were happily drunkily floating atop the nectar.

I grabbed a small cup, as I didn't have any wine glasses. And why should I? I was a connoissuer of Michelob, not Some fancy wine. I stood there and picked out the cork bits, and raised my glass to my nose, just like the experts. I sniffed, and thought "well this sure isn't as good as the smell of beer, is it?" It smelled like a musty closet at Grandma's house. Still, I put the glass to my lips and sipped. I swirled, then swallowed. Mmm, not too bad! I tasted again, and decided to set it down and start my supper.

Mind you, I've never cooked for less than four, and have often cooked for six and even eight. My family just kept growing through the years, and damned if it hasn't stopped! I found myself with my own four kids, had remarried, acquiring a stepdaughter, oldest son getting married and so on. My most wonderful discovery, after the wine, was the FoodNetwork. Ah yes, the education my family had always prayed for.

As I prepared my Chicken Parmesan, I continued faithfully sipping. My mood had altered. By the end of that first glass, I was already humming a tune. I was even dancing in place from time to time. My kids would enter and exit the kitchen, remarking about the great smells coming from the kitchen.

By the second glass, I was already deciding on what other wines to try. What sort of wine glasses would I get? Was I becoming a wino before my very eyes? Who cares! I continued cooking, and sipping.

Finally, dinner was ready. I skipped outside to whistle for my middle boy who was playing outside. I kissed the dog on the nose, and set the table. I had prepared a feast fit for a King! A Queen! A family of eight! I looked around, with a great sense of joy at my very large and loud family. I poured another delicious glass of wine into my cheap little cup, and said, "Dig in, ya'll, Mamma's got a new attitude!"

I had  become SOMEBODY!