About the Cookshack

I've always been around women who cooked. My Grandmother was by far the best baker I've ever known. No one could do justice to my Mother's chicken fried steak or leg of lamb. I never thought much about cooking growing up, as I was usually delegated to being the dishwasher. And still am most times, even at my own house. I'd watched my Mother and Grandmother cook, but never paid attention to the how or the why. I still remember the first time I had tried to make Mom's famous Pink Lemonade Pie. I was living in Las Cruces finishing my bachelor's degree and was going to cook up a special dinner for some close friends. Thank goodness she was one of my BEST friends because she and her husband diligently ate their pie without one grimace, bad word, or frown. Lo and behold, I had forgot one of the most crucial ingredients
(which is sad because there are only THREE ingredients) - the sweetened condensed milk. It was just like eating a big glob of gooey lime juice. To this day, I don't think they've let me serve them dessert again.

Fast forward to adulthood, moving back in with my Mother with a small infant tied to my hip, cooking - but more so entertaining and providing comfort, companionship, solace, and smiles to those around us. This became a fundamental part of who I am today. I am NOT by my standards a cook - I  just have the ability to follow, expand, tweak, and sometimes fly off the cuff when using a recipe.  My baking is limited, but is what most people remember the most.

A few years back, a girlfriend started calling me Butterbean. That led to Momma Butterbean (I'm thinking MAYBE - and this is a stretch - because of the Kevin Fowler song).  Please do not ask why she deemed it necessary to call, post, and Myspace (that was when Myspace was the cool place to hang) Momma Butterbean on EVERY reference to me. I honestly, and I pinky swear on this, DO NOT KNOW why, and at this point, it really doesn't matter. Like most things, the MBB reference morphed into referring to my kitchen as, yes you guessed it, Momma Butterbean's Cookshack (I kid you not, we even have the sign to prove it).

MMB aka RED

If that wasn't enough to try and explain, over Christmas break Cookie was talking to some close family friends about how you can just ask for something from the kitchen and it appears - "POOF, like MAGIC" she says enthusiastically. And hence how the Magic Oven came to be. The term is not copyrighted nor trademarked, but you would be facing an uphill battle if you were to try and prove that your oven was better than my oven and all its magical powers.

So that is how it all began, where we have been, and Lord only knows where we are headed. I just hope that with all my magical powers that I can make the plain jane Magic Oven morph into a stainless steel double oven with a self cleaning function. A girl can hope, can't she?

Love,
RED