We have cutting boards in the kitchen along the wall. One of them is taken by the grandmother when she prepares something from meat; the other for vegetables; special board for fish. The boards have darkened from time, they have a lot of chinks from knives. But one board they once was not in use, although hanging on the wall for a long time. The picture of the puppy is burned on it. On its reverse side is the inscription: “Dear Mom on the Day of March 8 from Stepan”. Stepan is my father. Grandmother said that when he was like me, he was fond of burning wood. And he also liked to help in the kitchen and learned to cook.
I could not cook, and I did not like it, but then I wanted to surprise my family with my culinary skills.
One day, when I was alone at home, I decided to bake pancakes. I saw how grandmother and mother cooked pancakes, and it seemed to me that this business was not difficult. In the culinary book I read the recipe, I found all the products in the fridge. I slightly heated the milk in a saucepan, drove in eggs, poured flour, added sugar, salt and mixed everything thoroughly. It...seemed to me that the dough was too thin, then I added flour again. Finally came the exciting moment of baking pancakes. The grandmother pours a dough in a deep spoon, then shakes it, distributing the mass evenly, but I started to pour the dough right into the pan from the pan to save time. “Maybe the pancake will be fat,” I thought, “but it does not matter, delicious”. Turn the pancake and remove it from the frying pan I could not. It turned out, as in that proverb: a raw dough. But if the proverb was only the first pancake, then I got a coma every time. I burned my fingers and was already not happy that I took on these pancakes. My grandmother put an end to my torment. Entering the kitchen, she clasped her hands and oyknula. And there was why: I’m all in flour, sex and dough, on a plate, in a frying pan pieces of badly baked dough, children in the kitchen.
“I wanted to make a surprise,” I explained. It seemed to me that my grandmother should get angry. But she brought a camera from the room and began to take pictures of me: “It will be a good memory, once you show your children.”