263. Mother's lessons for life

Baby is turning 16 and I will soon be considering the job done and be gone to new pastures (might have to do a bit of distance parenting which I will probably be quite good at). As I am sitting on my new couch - basking in a quiet self-complimenting session - I startle as I remember something.  I get off the couch and in a split second (which is quite perilous these days) I am at the bottom of the stairs.

'BABY!' 

Of course no reply. She has these pea-pods things in her ears.

'BABY!'

No reply. I am ready to go upstairs as this matter cannot wait any longer but she answers. 

'What's up?' She says as she is coming down the stairs two at at time. (I might have overdone the urgency in the tone of voice)

'You need to do a Béchamel sauce.'

She looks befuddled by such a simple statement. Still she takes a couple more steps down.

'What? Like ... now?'

'Yes, now. You turn 16 tomorrow. You have to know how to do a Béchamel sauce.'

I can see she wants to tell me I'm nuts but does not dare (well brought as she is.)

'Like now, right now this instant?'

I march her along to the kitchen. I'm so glad I remembered this just in time. I'll enjoy my new couch some other time.  I start giving instructions and am shocked by her ignorance in this matter. She does not even know what pan to use!!!!! and she's asking questions so stupid I think she might be acting up.  

'What's a Béchamel sauce?'

Deary me. Emergency situation number 235b. I grab the Complete Cordon Bleu of Cooking Techniques and start reading the paragraphs about basic sauces.

'STOP!' She screams. 'STOP. STOP. Please. I know what a Béchamel sauce is.'

'OK. Grab a suitable pan.'

We go through several and finally select the right one.

I get her to weigh and sift the flour. I get her to judge how much butter she needs without weighing it. 

'Why?'

'A good cook can cook with the minimum instruments and gadgets. I mean do you play tennis with a manual in your hands?'

That befuddled look again.

'Now stir vigorously. We do not want any lumps.'

Baby likes that bit ans she is stirring so vigorously that bit of sauce are flying all over.

'Now we need to add milk.'

I get the milk out of the fridge and open the bottle and let her do it. Because she just won't stop stirring I have to dash out and get an other bottle before she runs out. I take a look.

'Vey smooth! Well done!'

'Now nutmeg. Be generous with it.'

I am pleased to see she knows her nutmeg from her cumin. I am pleased to see that she can grate the nuts and doesn't moan about having to be generous with it. She's getting quite sensible. Growing up. As I muse over these considerations, an other splash sends bits sauce all over the cooker as she's dropped the nutmeg and the grater in the pan.

I taste the sauce. Nice. Now we need to find something in the freezer to pour the sauce on. I cannot serve bowl of Béchamel for dinner. 

Baby puts the pods back in her ears and starts dancing her way back up the stairs. She waves and disappears. I settle back in my new couch. Relieved and happy. Baby can turn 16 tomorrow.