Confessions of a Failed Social Media Mother

Last week, I had a small victory. I actually allowed the Younger Girlchild to stay in the kitchen with me when I was cooking dinner.

A little bit of backstory might be in order. I was, for quite a few years, a chef. Both in restaurants and in private service. I also was a caterer. I never went to culinary school; I just started doing pantry/prep work in a restaurant in which I waited tables. Not only did I work my way up through several restaurants to become a chef and to run a catering company, I also taught cooking classes. Remember that last bit. It’s important.

I have two lovely daughters. They are both interested in cooking. (The Younger Girlchild isn’t actually interested in eating, but she loves to help with cooking.) By all rights, I should be teaching my children to cook. According to social media, the three of us should be cooking the recipes of our foremothers, attired in whimsical aprons, hilariously spilling flour all over the place and giggling delightedly, all the while capturing each heartwarming moment in Mayfair-filtered Instagram snaps.

Unfortunately, I am an utter failure as a Social Media Mother. I cannot teach my children to cook. I taught cooking classes, and I cannot teach my children to cook. You see, my kitchen is MY kitchen. It is a place of quiet in the maelstrom of my life. In it, I chop and peel and sear and braise while listening to audiobooks. (Libro.fm is the best thing. Ever. Seriously. Check it out.) I have tried numerous times before to allow one or the other of the Girlchildren to stay in the kitchen while I cook, but I have always gotten fed up and banished them.

This is why I’m proud of myself. The Younger Girlchild stayed in the kitchen for the whole time I was preparing dinner. She asked questions every 2.8 nanoseconds, and I tried my damnedest to answer them. I wouldn’t allow her to help because I’m not there yet. But I’m hopeful that I will be able to get there. Eventually.

We only see the highlights of other people’s lives. We see the artfully arranged minutes that don’t show the messy house, the screaming child, the frazzled parents. We don’t see the tears or the heartbreak or the stink. Therefore, when we compare ourselves to others, as we all do, we can never hope measure up to these carefully curated Amaro-filtered lies. Why can’t we remember that life IS messy? It doesn’t come with Clarendon, Crema, and Lo-Fi filters.

To celebrate my small victory, I’m sharing the recipe that I was throwing together when I allowed the Younger Girlchild to stay in the kitchen while I cooked.

Small Victory Beef with Broccoli and Asparagus

Serves 4

Ingredients

• 1/3 cup soy sauce (low sodium, tamari, gluten free – whichever you have in your pantry)
• ¼ cup dark brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon toasted sesame oil
• 2 to 4 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 inch piece of ginger, peeled and minced
• 3 green onions, sliced
• ¼ to ½ crushed red pepper flakes
• 1 pound sirloin, sliced relatively thinly
• 2 teaspoons canola oil
• 2 crowns of broccoli, cut into florets
• 2 to 3 spears of asparagus, woody stems removed and cut into 1 inch pieces on the bias
• 1 teaspoon cornstarch
• 1 teaspoon cold water
• Noodles or rice, cooked according to package directions – you can serve this over egg noodles, fettucini, wide rice noodles, white rice, brown rice, basmati rice… you get the idea!

Directions

Combine the soy sauce, brown sugar, sesame oil, garlic, ginger, green onions, and crushed red pepper flakes in a large zippered plastic bag. Add the thinly sliced sirloin. Marinate the beef for at least 30 minutes and up to 2 hours.

Add the canola oil to a large skillet or wok over high heat. When the oil “shimmers”, add the beef, reserving the marinade. Toss or stir quickly, cooking the beef but not letting it burn. Add the broccoli florets and the asparagus pieces, stirring or tossing constantly. (Note: You can steam the broccoli and asparagus while marinating the beef and cooking the noodles or rice.) Add the reserved marinade and bring to a boil. When the marinade has been boiling for about 2 minutes, stir in the cornstarch dissolved in the cold water, stirring constantly. Allow the sauce to thicken. Remove from the heat and serve over the starch of your choice. Celebrate the fact that you have fed your family!

Lee Virden is a jack of all trades, master of none. She has been a bank teller, a chef and caterer (both in restaurants and in private service), a bookkeeper, a trainer, a legal assistant, and a writer. She is a proud graduate of the University of the South with a degree in Early European History. She planned to be a professor but realized in the nick of time that professors have homework, which she never did when she was a student, so what made her think that she would do it as a professor? While she has not used her degree in her, er, varied employment history, she is fabulous at cocktail parties. Most importantly, Lee is the proud mother of two absolutely amazing girls, to whom she refers in social media as the Girlchildren.