She got much better at it after my sister and I left home, but I was not raised by someone you could trust to boil an egg or toast a bagel. We ate a lot of fresh fruit and raw vegetables.
Her signature way of ruining dinner was through burning it. We had timers, but still we were way overly familiar with the sound of a smoke detector.
As I was chopping these carrots, I was giving my mom all kinds of knife-skills credit. She made the nicest looking carrot sticks. It occurred to me that since I now buy carrots in the five pound bag, I might someday be able to take a butcher knife and render such lovely sticks. (Step one: buy a butcher knife.)
I found a different way to channel my mother today. I was steaming these carrots. In water. With a(n ill-fitting) lid. I checked on them more than once.
They're "carmelized". As someone who knows about burnt food, not too bad. The pan probably isn't ruined yet. The baby thinks pan-roasted carrots are great at least. Good news since she's too small for raw sticks yet.