Son-in-law chef learns to live with his wife’s leftover lovers
Kristin and I hit it big in a lot of different ways when we gained our son-in-law. Among many other things, and even beyond his pivotal role in bringing about a trio of adorable grandchildren, he has elevated our gastronomical game to heights we’d never even imagined.
Andrew caught the cooking bug early from his own father and carried the talents to his own kitchen, where he now seems to specialize in dazzling us during our weekly visit. Smoked salmon, broiled tenderloin and grilled ribs, along with sauces and side dishes I can neither spell nor even pronounce, it’s like having our own private chef.
Even beyond providing us with what is indisputably our best meal of the week, Andrew somewhat inadvertently shapes our diet for days on end by sending us home with a cache of leftovers following each of his masterpiece meals. And while the average oldster might be happy to crack open the Tupperware, zap the contents and enjoy a single delightful encore, my mission each week is to reimagine every one of Andrew’s dishes into a string of meals that will last us for days.
A slab of honey-barbecued short ribs? Why, with a package of egg noodles, I can make three days’ worth of dinners that would put most stroganoffs to shame. A barbecued chicken half? I’m busting that baby up into a big pan of rice and boiling down the bones to make broth. If this week’s offering featured a thick sauce of sautéed mushrooms and caramelized onions, you can bet your tall white toque it’s going to end up as the base for a whole slow cooker of soup.
When I start tossing in whatever bruised and dented vegetables I snatch from the “blowout” section of our local grocery store, the possibilities become truly endless.
Kristin sees utility in my genius. After all, whatever cooking I do easily equates to cooking she doesn’t have to do. Andrew is less enthusiastic. I have little doubt our son-in-law views my low-budget bastardizations of his art (and Kristin’s willing acceptance of them) as just another of the many eccentricities he’s learned to deal with for the honor of taking our daughter’s hand.
Still, he remains a good sport about the whole thing, as proven by a comment made as he dished a pair of delightfully prepared, artfully presented grilled chicken breasts into a storage bowl for us to take home.
“Would you like me to cube these for you?” he teased. “I mean you’re just going to throw them in a pot of water and make soup out of them anyway, right?”
Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John at jlorson@alonovus.com.