I was nearly nine when my oldest sister got married. One of my favorite things to do in the following years was to visit her. At one point, she and her husband and firstborn lived in the woods in a little cabin down a steep ridge. They didn’t have electric or indoor plumbing and when I would visit I’d have to haul my bags down the exhausting 75 steps that were built into the hill. I thought it was delightful and longed to live in a cute little place like that when I got married, too.
One day when I was visiting Betsie asked me what I wanted to do that day. I promptly replied that it had always been a dream of mine to make noodles. She assured me it would be a long process, but if I wanted to spend my time in the kitchen with her then she would be happy to oblige.
That day in the kitchen was a happy one – full of laughter and talking and reminiscent of when she lived at home and we cooked together nearly every day. What stands out in my mind the most though is when we were making supper to go along with the noodles we’d fashioned.
Betsie made venison burgers, then began chopping onions to go along with them. It wasn’t long until both of us had red, stinging eyes, so I asked her why in the WORLD anyone would go through such misery just to have onions to eat. She explained that since her husband liked onions she served them regularly. When I vehemently declared that when I got married and had my own kitchen I would never cook with onions, she laughed and said I might change my mind when I fell in love. I found that hard to believe.
That was far more than half my lifetime ago, and yet I’m still often amused by little ol’ me when it comes to what I’m willing to put up with in the kitchen to provide a tasty meal.
And onions? Well, I’ve gotten to a place where I’ve actually prayed that my (future) husband likes them because I enjoy cooking with them so much. So, I bid adieu to my emphatic declarations of childhood and conceded that my sister really was right after all.
Noveltea 
Your story reminds me of one of my first dates with my husband. I was making him a meal for the first time. I really liked him and felt strongly that he was “the one.” I made baked chicken and mashed potatoes with a side of green beans. As I mashed the potatoes I prayed that they would be the best he ever tasted. He certainly enjoyed them and ultimately asked me to marry him 🙂 I love onions too!
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That’s a GREAT story! I’ve prayed before that people would like my food, but that’s generally when I feel like I messed it up somehow… Like recently I was cooking for something at church and I wasn’t feeling the best so my tastebuds were off, and I later realized I put too much salt in it. So, I prayed it wouldn’t taste too salty. A few days later a group of ladies told me that the food was great, and I asked if it was too salty and they said it wasn’t. So, obviously God did something there. 😉
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I bet it was wonderful!
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Eh, I feel the same way about onions that you felt back then. I like them, but I HATE chopping them… And I’m twice as old as you were back then, haha! I’ll chop them up if my mom requests that I make something that has onions, but it’s a rare thing for me to cut them up upon my own accord (although I’ve done it before). Man, those things almost make me cry out my contacts!!!
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Yeah, I’ve had to run outside before because my eyes were crying so much. It’s totally worth it to me though. I like onions SO much! 😉
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