My Mother never taught me or let me try cooking, either. But her reasoning was we didn't have the money to waste (now there's the way to make a young person feel good about themselves when she assumed that I would fail)....oh well....what's done is done...
Since I was doomed to fail anyway, I remember I was going to make a lemon pie for Dad (his all-time favourite) and made a pie shell when they were both in town and wouldn't be home until late. Anyway, the pie shell was so hard that I remember tossing it down the bank towards the river...and no one ever found out about my first episode of baking until now...
I haven't thought about that in years...but I could still see myself tossing it disgustingly and I don't remember ever trying that again until I was married...thank God I got a great recipe for pie dough from my neighbour and not one of my three males complained about my pies...
Note: I worshipped my Mother, she was a great woman and I still deeply miss her!
