Tove, my future sister-in-law, looked at me with a combination of pity and disbelief when my culinary disability was revealed. To me, cooking is a matter of trial and error – since I rarely try, there are a lot of errors.
Tove gave me what she felt was a simple task – whipping cream. She pointed to an area by the sink with an electric whisk. Naturally I did not know that it was a whisk, because the beater was detached from the doodad that powers it (handle).
Once she helped me solve the mystery of how the two parts connected, I was off to what I thought was a good start. I didn’t have enough cream in the cup, and I didn’t know how to turn the tool on, but standing there in the kitchen, I felt that I was cooking.
Then I figured out how to turn the whisk on, and I liked using it a bit too much – the cream turned into butter. This boosted my confidence- there was one less thing I could do wrong.
So, for my second attempt I loosened my grip. This resulted in a moment that seemed to last forever as whip cream painted the cabinets, stovetop and floor Pollock style, and seeped into the lace overlay of Tove’s beautiful dress.
Throughout my travels, my ability to completely humiliate myself has been what charms people. Let’s hope this holds true for Bjorn’s family. I meet his mom and dad Monday – wish me luck.