This afternoon Trise was fixing a late breakfast.
I heard her yell at her old man, “Rodney; get some grits out of the pantry.”
He tried to tell her, “There aren’t any more,” but she wasn’t listening.
I intervened told her, “There are some grits in a bowl in the refrigerator.”
I even went in the kitchen to get her the bowl.
She turned to me all snooty and shit and said, “Naw, I don’t know how to redo grits. I don’t eat no redone grits.”
I put the bowl down and resumed my normal activity.
Apparently Baby Girl doesn’t remember who she was talking to. I am the queen of economy…the daughter of a head chef. I conserve food by nature. I have been pre-cooking grits since I was a kid. She has been eating pre-cooked since she was a kid. The last time I cooked breakfast with grits they were pre-cooked from the previous day… and she devoured them!
This particular day I had pre-cooked grits stored in the refrigerator… she didn’t use them… I can tell, because the grits she served weren’t undercooked… grainy.
Everybody who has ever worked in a restaurant will tell you, “Cooks precook food to save time.”
Well; I grew up under the genius of one of Michigan’s greatest chef’s and he always precooked foods… it was second nature!