IF AT FIRST

“What we speak becomes the house we live in.”  Hafiz

About three months ago I posted a recipe for Disguised Butternut Squash, in which the wily gourmand whips up a batch of butternut squash, adds sundry ingredients, and passes the dish off as re-fried beans.

The recipe states that the squash should be peeled raw and cut into chunks before placing it into the crock pot.  Ugh, I said.  Have you ever peeled a raw squash?  I wondered if the squash could simply be roasted whole

squash
YES!

and then dismembered and placed into the crock pot with the spices.  I generally roast squash whole before I ever cut into it.  No, I don’t poke holes into the squash.  In my 50 plus years of cooking I’ve only had one squash explode.  Winner!

cut-squash
Dismembered Squash

Well, it worked in the recipe, except I was out of paprika, which is an important component of the mixture.  I bought some paprika the next day and added it to the completed dish.  The world continued to spin on it’s axis.

Which calls to mind something that I often think about.  Besides food.  And so I made up this story…

There once was a man who couldn’t walk, so he spent his whole life in a wheel chair except for the times when he’d crawl around on his hands and knees.  There wasn’t anything physically wrong with him.  He was just convinced that walking was something he simply couldn’t do.

He explained that when he was very young and discovered that he was able to pull himself into a standing position he’d tried to take a step and immediately fell onto his little bottom.  He said he gave it a second try with the same results.  It was then and there that he decided that he didn’t want to go through life embarrassing himself, so he accepted the fact that he was not a walker.

Frustrated with his logic?  That’s the way I feel when someone says, “I’m not creative.  I can’t draw.  I can’t sing.  I’m not a good cook.”  I want to ask them how much effort they put into doing what they want to do.

What is it that you want to do?

Loveya – The Grandma

Grandma Pat Cooks musings

Grandma Pat View All →

Artist, African hand drum student, yoga neophyte, and Grandmother of 22 or so grandchildren. I enjoy cooking and writing. I value good friends and quiet times for reading.

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