Cooking gene kicks in during retreat

After the Hubster read last week’s column, he had just one question about all the cooking that went on while I was at the writers retreat, “What about me?”
Since my idea of an elaborate meal is whipping up a pot of spaghetti he was right fascinated by the fare that I described. It’s not that I don’t like cooking, but between my schedule and the Hubster’s, food production ends up being pretty basic stuff that more often than not involves leftovers from the restaurant the night before.
Put it this way, exotic well-planned meals aren’t our top priority. So her rightfully has questions. But first a few bits about the rereat for those who had questions. The retreat, which is sponsored by the Lowcountry Romance Writers of America (most of the members are from Summerville, Goose Creek and other parts of Berkeley County but we have out-of-towners and out-of-staters as well.) Every year we rent the same fabulous beach house (we hear that Bruce and Demi once rented it for their family – back when they were a family).
The first year the retreat was just for the weekend, but we fell in love with the house and it wasn’t that much more to get it for the week. And when you 30 women in the same house, well, the cost isn’t too huge, so the second week, called Hermit Week was born. This year we added a second Hermit Week and a Masters Class with teachers who are agents, publishers or well-known authors to help and newly published writers.
Hermit Weeks are a time to write alone in your room, take solitary walks on the beach and hang out with other writers. There’s no pressure to socialize. Meals are on your own during the day. At night we come together to either go to prepare an easy meal.
That’s when my mother’s cooking gene apparently kicked in.
It started with a breakfast casserole. Then it moved on to a Beaufort Stew. The next morning I found myself sautéing shrimp left over from the stew, whipping up creamy grits for shrimp and grits. Now, I’d never cooked this before, had no recipe, and it turned out great. I couldn’t believe it. I don’t know why I event did it. It was like my mother was there telling me what to do.
So, after breakfast, I called the Hubster.
“What you been up to today,” he said.
“Cooking.”
“Really? Cooking?” (I detected a tone of: 1. Disbelief and 2. Envy)
“Yeah, I know. That’s different, isn’t it?” I said, still wondering what had gotten into me.
“Well, to tell you the truth, I’ve been cooking this week, too,” he said and named off a few simple dishes that involved way more cooking than either of us does when we’re in the same house.
“So, maybe we’ll do more cooking when I get home,” I suggested.
“That sounds like a great idea,” he said. (I could tell he didn’t really think that would happen. And I have my doubts, but I can fantasize, can’t I?”)
So, this is my very, very early New Year’s resolution. I, and he, will cook more. We will prepare healthy things and eat at home when we can so that when we are at holiday events we will not overindulge just because we are so happy to see real food that didn’t come out of a box.
I wonder what I’ll fix for dinner tonight.

Contact Judy Watts at jwatts@journalscene.com or 873-9424, ext. 220.