Dear Rachael Ray Cookbooks,
I think it might be time for us to part ways.
This is a hard thing for me to confess. I credit my being able to cook on watching 30 Minute Meals as a teen and college student. Yes, Rachael’s voice was always that aggravating, but her method spoke to me: simple, fresh, quick. I’m not saying I’ve made all or even many of the recipes in these books; in fact, half of them are so full of spicy ingredients, fresh tomatoes, olives, and bleu cheese that I’m surprised I even still have you. (Let’s be honest: I would eat most of the not-spicy recipes in you, but when your husband doesn’t eat mushrooms, squash, asparagus, cream cheese, sour cream, Ranch dressing, Brussels sprouts, greens, and more … it limits the options.)
Still, No Repeats was my favorite cookbook once upon a time. A time before we had kids, when I could make Chili-Sweet Potato Hash, Black Bean and Corn Salad, Jambalaya Burgers, or Smoky Chicken Patties without any complaining and starting a riot.
I know, I know. I should just make these things and expect my kids to eat them. Is it enough to promise that I do serve them vegetables? But one can only spend an hour cooking dinner (’cause we all know 30 minutes isn’t actually going to happen, especially with a toddler hanging on your leg) just to have it rejected by two-thirds of the family so many times before one feels like she is completely losing her mind.
I blame it on the dining hall, somewhat. Even though it feels like everyone else’s kids happily eat a variety of foods there. But we eat at the dining hall for dinner at least 75% of the year, and my children are so used to being presented with ALL THE OPTIONS. Usually including French fries. Even after summers of seeing it isn’t so, they still can’t understand most kids don’t get a choice on what they eat for dinner.
I’m sorry, cookbooks. I’m sorry, Rachael. I feel like I’ve failed you. But it’s time I stopped pretending I am going to get to cook more than two or three recipes from your pages for the next 10 years. I haven’t watched the Marie Kondo series, but I have read the book, and I know you are just not sparking joy anymore. You’re sparking defeat and self-loathing. Perhaps someday we’ll be reunited.
Until then, please ignore the boxes of generic Hamburger Helper that I’m making for dinner tonight. Yes, normally I would cook this from scratch at least, but when after-school seems like a giant mess, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.
With much love,
Jessie, Former Eater of Good Things and Current PBJ Chef