My mom is an awesome cook.
My dad used to be pretty good at “improv-dishes”, but his effort had been lacking for the past decade after he died.

As a kid I always thought that I didn’t like steak and pork chops.

Turns out, those things are delightful if you stop cooking them once they reach a safe internal temperature.

I learned how to cook out of self defense…

True story… my sister and I were at our grandparents house and gramma was in the kitchen peeling potatoes.

My sister, six years old, goes “Oh! What are those?”

Me: “Those are ‘potatoes’, that’s where french fries come from…”

Yeah, mom didn’t cook. Dad literally couldn’t make toast. The only reason we had ice cubes was because the recipe had been handed down from father to son…

Both of my parents are great at cooking. My dad is awesome at practical, healthy, well-balanced meals, and he did most of the day-to-day cooking when I was growing up. My mom absolutely loves to cook but can never just make a straightforward meal - she plans an entire elaborate dining experience from soup to nuts with drinks included. She has a huge library of cookbooks and every time she makes a recipe, she writes notes and feedback in the margin next to the recipe.

I’m more like my dad, but now and again I like making a more elaborate meal, mostly for special occasions. I’m exceedingly glad they taught me to cook - it’s such a basic life skill! Some parents never teach their kids, and those kids become adults who can’t make much more than scrambled eggs or pasta.

My mom was always on weird diets growing up and never let us have real butter and she never seasoned anything. Now my sister and I, adults, have adopted a French-level respect for butter in all things. I am fat but enjoy my food a lot more now that it tastes of food.

I didn’t think so when I was growing up, but when I moved out I realised that it was extremely plain food.

My parents were in their formative years in Britain in the '70s, so they grew up living on tinned food and I guess they just never moved away from that. That said, Sunday dinners were always made fresh - they were the best!

My mom is a great cook. In fact, as I grow older, I realized that my taste & preferences in food are greatly influenced by her.

Both of my parents were inconsistent.

My mom was Italian and made great pastas and a number of other dishes.

My dad had a signature chili dish and a bunch of others that were great.

But most meats either if them cooked (other than poultry) turned out dry and chewy. My dad liked his steak well done, or medium-well at the rarest. To be fair, I’ve since discovered how easy it is to overcook meats. But I’ve also put effort into understanding how moisture can work in various dishes and make great ribs, like the kind you can just pull the bones out of (the secret is to poach them for about 10 minutes before roasting or grilling them).

But growing up like that has left me mostly uninterested in things like steaks and pork chops, even though I know restaurants can do a better job at cooking them.

My dad had a similar dislike for anything boiled because that’s how his mom cooked everything (and yeah, if I stopped after poaching those ribs, I bet they’d be kinda gross).

My mom is decent at cooking, she can follow a recipe and even make a few things on the fly. However she doesn’t believe in salt or anything “exotic” (which could be something nearby, like Cajun seasoning)

Dad is decent at grilling, he’s more agnostic when it comes to salt. He changes his mind about what he likes and what he doesn’t like, sometimes within the same meal, so it’s really hard to cook for him.

I will eat pretty much anything, but I rarely get to explore new foods or revisit foods my parents deem “exotic” or “salty”

Unfortunately this includes specific brands/types of food and seasonings/condiments. For example, French’s is the only type of mustard that tastes good. Heinz is the preferred ketchup. Hellmann’s, the mayo. God forbid someone buys the salt that doesn’t have the girl with the umbrella on it. Most veggies are preferred frozen, definitely never canned. Steak HAS to be “fresh” and at least 1.5" thick (or something). No preseasoned meats, those are too salty. Don’t get the wrong butter, it’s too salty. Don’t tell them you’re making chili and then give them white chicken chili. Beef, pork, or chicken ONLY. Anything else is “gamey”/disgusting/weird. Only use yellow onions. Don’t make mashed potatoes with anything other than russets. Unless they’re instant, then it HAS to be the red potatoes. But not the seasoned packets. Don’t bake anything with bacon wrapped around it. But, please bake the bacon instead of frying it in a skillet. No turkey, especially not ground turkey. Unless it’s Thanksgiving, then you have to bake one. With stuffing. But not that stuffing. Simply Orange orange juice ONLY. And it has to have pulp. One brand/type of coffee ONLY. Unless it’s instant, then get this other one. No boxed wine, yuck! Except when the doctor tells them to drink wine, then they MUST have it because the other wines are too dry/bitter/sweet/???. No Asian food. EXCEPT that one dish we had that one time 10 years ago, that was good, what was that again? Mexican food is DELICIOUS, but only from this one restaurant, and it has to be the fajitas, a burrito, or a few tacos. But not fish tacos. And certainly not street tacos - they’re too small. Unless my sibling wants street tacos, then everyone LOVES them. Oh, and we LOVE Italian food, but only if it’s regular spaghetti noodles or penne pasta. None of that rigatoni spiraly shelly shit. Unless it’s pasta salad - then it has to be the multicolored spirals. Or mac and cheese - then it has to be the mini shells. And only KD. None of that Velveeta crap.

…I could go on, but I fear I have revealed too much lol

save me

Fun times!

My mom was always kinda shit at cooking. So many foods I thought I didn’t like turned out to just be because my mom couldn’t cook lol

My dad used to be pretty good but at some point he just stopped giving a shit and none of the things I used to love him make, don’t come out at all like they used to. The only thing I hated that my dad made growing up was pancakes because he made them with Bisquick and they tasted like a bad dinner roll. He used to make hella good lemon chicken but these days, the lemon sauce is barely flavored and way watery compared to the thick, sticky glaze it used to be.

Well yes because they are dead.

My dad was a pretty good but infrequent cook, my mom was a frequent and uninspired cook (we got spaghetti, chili, grilled cheese, sort of bachelor cooking but with occasional seafood boils too). They were both busy people.

I am a good cook but it’s from years of experimenting and making mistakes. My kids, 3 are good cooks already, 1 is not and none of my step kids are.

But again, I was not a good cook when young. I don’t really understand how one can keep making mistakes without learning from them though. My ex was an absolute terror in the kitchen, worst cook I have ever seen, literally burned water once, and he learned and ended up running a little kitchen in a health food store, very successful at using what was available to make interesting food that sold well so I firmly believe anyone can learn if they want to and if they just keep going.

My father was not the greatest cook. He could bake pork ribs or chicken legs fairly compentantly, and he could boil potatoes or pasta. But that was the extent of his skills. Anything fried in a pan was cooked beyond recognition. I was in my 20s before I realized steak didn’t have to be the same consistency as shoe leather. A common dinner he’d make was mashed potatoes with margarine, topped with macaroni mixed with Catelli meat sauce. It took me a number of years to undo all of that and learn to cook properly.

My mom doesn’t believe in using salt when cooking. She’s actually a decent cook but she tends to make somewhat bland food.

My mother has been dead for many years, so now I can safely say that she was an awful cook. I still can barely eat vegetables.

My mom is amazing. My dad eats tomato soup out of the can, cold.