tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post5628069133936894215..comments2024-01-02T21:41:49.068-08:00Comments on Paul. Because 'Paul' is a nice name.: I cast thee out, Pressure Cooker! I rebuke thee utterly!FirstNationshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13387748372500478809noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-32666373574168058802008-07-26T07:01:00.000-07:002008-07-26T07:01:00.000-07:00Food=love and you hitting puberty gives her the do...Food=love and you hitting puberty gives her the double whammy of competion and the horror of watching someone who will have a different/better life than she did or made for herself which sends her into meltdown. <BR/><BR/>In her mind-you will grow up and leave (abandonment), you are younger/prettier than her (competition), you have the chance to have a better life - ie not hers (resentment and jealousy), if you leave then you don't love her (insecurity) therefore she will get in first by witholding the food you love (control). If you think of it in that way then the inedible food she serves up gives a straight line into her mind (quite apart from the fact that you can't cook well if you're unhappy/angry - it never turns out right) everything is all mushed up, slimy and unpalatable. Being forced to eat everything equates to her as you loving her and the frustration and tantrums when you don't like what she's serving only serves to reinforce to her that you don't love her, that you don't respect her and so the circle turns...<BR/><BR/>It might explain her behaviour - it certainly doesn't excuse it (it may also be a completely wrong analysis).<BR/><BR/>My nan and grandpa used to hoard food - only tins though and understandable in their case; for my nan (growing up in wartime britain)canned food was still a luxury while grandpa I think never recovered from his time in the concentration camp. I sort of understand my nan's food=love equation now and don't eat for a couple of hours before I go to visit her. <BR/><BR/>Have to admit that pressure cookers terrify me too - traumatic memory of my grandma's pressure cooker exploding, it took three can's of paint to cover up the stains of tomato pickle on the ceiling (the dint made by the metal whizzy thing is still there). <BR/><BR/>My (almost) mother-in-law gave me a pressure cooker years ago (as a present). I tried not to see it as a subconscious desire on her part to kill me. It lives in my mums attic.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-41111607775130945972008-07-24T09:16:00.000-07:002008-07-24T09:16:00.000-07:00MJ: Cafe C is the winner of the fabled Michelin 5T...MJ: Cafe C is the winner of the fabled Michelin 5TH Star (for ultra wackiness of the cuisinary experience that isn't french with naked guys!!!!!!!) IT is is SOOOOOOPERB! Dis not the Cafe of the C!!! *brandishing ladles in a threatening manner northwards*<BR/><BR/>*wonders why it's so breezy*<BR/><BR/>*runs into other room, puts on bra, runs back out, picks up REAL ladles, brandishes them northerly*<BR/><BR/>jeannie: believe me, what that woman went through as a kid would turn anyone into a monster. it has to be said-there were good reasons why she was the way she was. this is not to say that she had any right or justification to treat a small child the way she did, though. but man, there were REASONS.<BR/><BR/>mr. the dog: oh my darling, don't feel sad! i didn't go hungry (remember, i was a night rambler and there was many a feast lit only by the little light that comes on when the fridge door is open!) eating well, in this case, is the best revenge...three times a day for the rest of my life! *fixes a nice italian dinner for mr. the dog)<BR/><BR/>daisy: yup, you nailed it. and they do make you feel like its your problem and not theirs, too. you really got nialed, thought, huh? substance abuse too? geeziz shit, lady. good job on surviving!<BR/><BR/>beast: i had a radiator in an apartment that would do that every now and then...the steam heat would build and then suddenly orange, superheated water would geyser out of the pressure valve so hard it took the paint off the ceiling. it was almost like 'Old Faithful'. <BR/><BR/>voices: that shit lasted until we got an 'insinkerator' garbage disposal, and by the time they figured out i was sneaking past it cramming handfulls of food down the thing, we'd got a dog!!<BR/><BR/>gale:see, and people wonder why americans have so many issues related to food and eating. that kind of thing might have been appropriate back when being a picky eater meant starvation, but 1960 was not 1933 by any stretch of the imagination. (())<BR/><BR/>christine: I'll send you the money and you can get the paperwork started. an italian momma who lives near Disneyland?? HELL YEAH!!<BR/><BR/>SSA: i was never even tempted to do that shit, either. it wasn't even in me. although you did sit in front of a few reincarnations of the scrambled egg...still, there were no pressurized instruments of food torture involved!XX my darling.<BR/><BR/>frobi: WHAT WAS IT WITH THE DAMN PRESSURIZED COOKING BULLSHIT? someone must have been a marketing genius because that thing does NOT belong in the kitchen-at least, not the home kitchen. DOWN WITH THE PRESSURE COOKER!!!!FirstNationshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13387748372500478809noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-36618744391879685922008-07-24T03:24:00.000-07:002008-07-24T03:24:00.000-07:00I was scared of the pressure cooker when I was you...I was scared of the pressure cooker when I was young too!Frobisherhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14139984461096994586noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-81294320699162679082008-07-23T23:45:00.000-07:002008-07-23T23:45:00.000-07:00thank fuck: a) you are a functional mommy who love...thank fuck: <BR/>a) you are a functional mommy who loves her kids<BR/>b) i was spared parental abuse, most of my friends weren't that lucky<BR/>and<BR/>c) that both my parents learned to cook...even after living with psychos and drunks with dead taste buds.Secret Agent Squidhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05476981658365289358noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-20528487412084677482008-07-23T18:53:00.000-07:002008-07-23T18:53:00.000-07:00Oh dear. My mother was born in Italy. And if she...Oh dear. My mother was born in Italy. And if she taught me anything, it was that only tomatoes (not even their sauce) came out of a can. We used to jar our own sauce every year. If you want, and you're both probably pretty close in age, but I'd be willing to bet she'd adopt you. <BR/><BR/>She's crazy enough to make it work. Plus she lives all of forty minutes away from Disney World. You can make your own damned childhood my dear.<BR/><BR/>Also, fuck. That all sucks. Really.Christinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11530892587771136443noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-48965850360964049692008-07-23T18:04:00.000-07:002008-07-23T18:04:00.000-07:00My child abuse food was aptly named "1000 mile ste...My child abuse food was aptly named "1000 mile stew". Started out from old dry leftover roast beef, onion, and mealy potato. I hated that shit and the cast iron pan it was cooked to death in. And my childhood witch is still alive, alone, but alive.Galehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07054170274536788586noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-35475457493123104142008-07-23T10:30:00.000-07:002008-07-23T10:30:00.000-07:00*not surprised that Beast couldn't wait and blew i...*not surprised that Beast couldn't wait and blew it early*The Mistresshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07109289531733623207noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-65486157982353031542008-07-23T10:02:00.000-07:002008-07-23T10:02:00.000-07:00*STARES OFF INTO SPACE AND REMEMBERS WHAT DINER FO...*STARES OFF INTO SPACE AND REMEMBERS WHAT DINER FOR BREAKFAST WAS ABOUT*<BR/><BR/> oh yeah, eaten a shit load of unfinished dinners for breakfast... crazy story well told... <BR/><BR/>**marks down three points for nations on invisible clip board**INNER VOICEShttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09711910995629845274noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-28888228703066680752008-07-23T09:55:00.000-07:002008-07-23T09:55:00.000-07:00And I saw that MJ , A pot of Ma Beastie special ch...And I saw that MJ , A pot of Ma Beastie special chickpea curry is in the post.....That will teach youBEASThttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-2991952985685803212008-07-23T09:52:00.000-07:002008-07-23T09:52:00.000-07:00Good lord , its like 'whatever Happened to Baby Ja...Good lord , its like 'whatever Happened to Baby Jane' with pressure cookers .....<BR/>I had a pressure cooker when I had a one ring stove in my first bedsit in London , I cooked some fab thing with it(but your suposed to cook stuff shorter than you normally would .....longer would be nasty) , I do remeber pulling the weight off while it was still under pressure and it blowing the soup out the hole all over the ceilingBEASThttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15428640137434521072noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-10081923836471679732008-07-23T03:36:00.000-07:002008-07-23T03:36:00.000-07:00FN you are correct OCD doesn't cover it...it truly...FN you are correct OCD doesn't cover it...it truly is a personality disorder...i know...my mother did much the same and when i studied for my psychology degree i found out i was not crazy, she fucking was! it is enough to make you feel as if YOU are the one who is nuts because they do it so naturally...one night coming home my sisters and brother kept shaking their heads "no" to me...that was one signal (until she figured it out) to say "don't eat this shit it will fucking kill you!" she had made "gravy" and put it over bread for dinner, however, seemed to have forgotten (purposely) the grease to flavor it...so basically she served my siblings hot paste on bread...i do understand my dear friend...i learned to cook while she was in her drunken/drugged stupors and made sure we had food during those times, which got more regular as time went on...thankfully she slept till noon so i was able to get a full breakfast in everyone every day...i don't understand the philosophy behind their thinking but i feel for you...and i understand...Daisyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15190578784452773984noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-80189626469761315542008-07-23T01:38:00.000-07:002008-07-23T01:38:00.000-07:00Well that post affected me badly and the last line...Well that post affected me badly and the last line made me burst into tears. You poor darling - that poor little girl..<BR/><BR/>It is a kind of eating disorder but cruel and hurtful. I guess to me food and love are close, I am always feeding people and I especially like cooking for my children. Nice things - I am quite a good cook. So to me hurting children again and again with food as a weapon sounds close to the worse thing a parent could do and ..<BR/><BR/>no <BR/><BR/>off to blub again. sniffAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-16220323540314469162008-07-22T22:36:00.000-07:002008-07-22T22:36:00.000-07:00Greek AND German heritage? Wowsers!The whole way ...Greek AND German heritage? Wowsers!<BR/><BR/>The whole way through reading that, I felt very sorry for the little girl who got served the slops - and I also wondered what the hell had happened to your mother to make her so upset with the world.<BR/><BR/>Now, I don't know you, only through your blog - and I am thankful as anything that you (seem to) have walked on with your life, rather than let that screw you up and down to become an obsessive tormenter of little children.jeaniehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/17322709527738134797noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-78411458399552238592008-07-22T21:52:00.000-07:002008-07-22T21:52:00.000-07:00Sounds like a night out at Cafe C.Sounds like a night out at Cafe C.The Mistresshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07109289531733623207noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-85574758615363626282008-07-22T21:05:00.000-07:002008-07-22T21:05:00.000-07:00cb: yup. thats when everything went into maximum o...cb: yup. thats when everything went into maximum overdrive. oh, i have STORIES. the food was the least of it. btw, i really liked your idea of using the stuffing mix with the spices in...thats one of those genius ideas, lady!FirstNationshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13387748372500478809noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-66809285247560777142008-07-22T14:50:00.000-07:002008-07-22T14:50:00.000-07:00so, wait. your mother tortured you because you got...so, wait. your mother tortured you because you got your period? she went on hideous rants when your special friend was visiting? Did I read that right? I can only surmise that among her power/control issues (of which there were clearly many) was a feeling of being threatened by you when you "became a woman" in her eyes. I've known other mothers that suddenly felt very threatened by their daughters when their daughters reached puberty because suddenly the daughter was <I>competition.</I> But I've definitely never heard of that insecurity being manifested to such an insane degree.<BR/><BR/>But then we already knew your (thankfully non-genetically connected) mother was batshit crazy, so i guess it's not a surprise. the only surprising thing is that you survived at all. honestly, you are a living miracle.Moominmamahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11750304448922417139noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-76227319019001209552008-07-22T13:07:00.000-07:002008-07-22T13:07:00.000-07:00z: oh geeze z. thank you.retro: yeah, i like the b...z: oh geeze z. thank you.<BR/><BR/>retro: yeah, i like the buried part too! but i like the 'no more pressure cooked anything' best of all.<BR/><BR/>joe: nah, karma bit her in the ass but good. by that time i hadn't seen her in over ten years. to tell you the truth i hope theres a good afterlife that she gets to go to because her life on this planet sucked pretty fucking bad. there were REASONS she was the way she was, poor woman.<BR/><BR/>ziggi: i GOT OUT. that was even enough. i was SUPPOSED to stay perfectly enmeshed in all the sickness and take all the blame and it just frosted the fuck out of them when i said 'IT'S DONE'...and it STAYED DONE. that was the revenge...walking away without one backward glance.<BR/><BR/>qenny: thank you, my darling. i need to go to your place and catch up on all your magical doings, jack!FirstNationshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13387748372500478809noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-75034922142345131392008-07-22T12:54:00.000-07:002008-07-22T12:54:00.000-07:00fuck!yet you survived - go you!fuck!<BR/><BR/>yet you survived - go you!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-26544954374691818462008-07-22T12:30:00.000-07:002008-07-22T12:30:00.000-07:00out of interest did you ever get even? Or just out...out of interest did you ever get even? Or just out of there??!Zighttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14325808421083028026noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-30655102530497819692008-07-22T12:07:00.000-07:002008-07-22T12:07:00.000-07:00OH, sorry, but it just brings up visions of her be...OH, sorry, but it just brings up visions of her being buried in a pressure cooker and . . . (no, do not go on)JoeinVegashttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05613274657685121948noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-88846772110863284782008-07-22T12:00:00.000-07:002008-07-22T12:00:00.000-07:00I love happy endings! Especially the buried part. ...I love happy endings! Especially the buried part. <BR/><BR/>I have haunting memories of my grandmother B using a pressure cooker a lot, usually only meat and it was cooked until tender. My mother didn't use pressure cookers precisely because her mother-in-law used one...and that was a good thing. RetroAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-85755644724932956662008-07-22T11:46:00.000-07:002008-07-22T11:46:00.000-07:00Sometimes I just want to cast myself down at your ...Sometimes I just want to cast myself down at your feet and weep with envy.<BR/><BR/>Which is a roundabout way of saying... that's so sad! but I laughed my ass off.<BR/><BR/>You are very brilliant.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-71306536885249218562008-07-22T11:43:00.000-07:002008-07-22T11:43:00.000-07:00garfy: my grandmother did the exact same thing for...garfy: my grandmother did the exact same thing for the exact same reason. god bless her, she meant well, she really did. she couldn't help it if she was German!<BR/><BR/>pink: eating out at a restaurant was a reward in our house. hell, my mother was usually the first one to suggest it! she knew what the hell she was doing, make no mistake.<BR/>i think the reason i turned out at all is that there was no actual genetic component. THANK GOD. (())!FirstNationshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13387748372500478809noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-89379302618701965972008-07-22T11:36:00.000-07:002008-07-22T11:36:00.000-07:00my grandparents and parents always used food as a ...my grandparents and parents always used food as a reward. <BR/><BR/>for such a crazy whacked out mom, you turned out fantastic. there, i said it first. that way i get all the credit.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21067023.post-26502593690877690932008-07-22T11:34:00.000-07:002008-07-22T11:34:00.000-07:00My grandmother used to roast meat until it was a s...My grandmother used to roast meat until it was a shrivelled carbonised lump just to make sure it was 'cooked right'.It wasn't done out of spite, it was just what a lot of people did in those days.<BR/><BR/>Poor you.garferhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11886540088842849166noreply@blogger.com