Thanks to my daughter's interest in culinary arts and her working to build a career as a cook / chef / kitchen manager, I don't do a lot of cooking anymore. I never was much of a cook. Sure, I learned a thing or two from my mom and grand-mom, could certainly follow a recipe, and was able to do a bit of improvising to come up with a "special" dish.
One such dish was a take on chicken cacciatore.
My take was basically seared chicken thighs with onions, garlic, and canned tomato sauce that I spiced with hot or barbeque sauce. It was spooned over rice. Nothing fancy but the kids loved it. And because it was easy and fast (my two "what's for dinner?" rules) it appeared often.
Over the years I was able to create "faux" takes on a number of fancier fare. They weren't the real deal but were tasty enough to pass muster and please the target audience. I was also able to learn how to prepare and perfect (for my family) cultural staples; macaroni and cheese, cornbread stuffing, greens, and candied yams over the years.
Still, I considered myself a so-so cook.
Some weeks ago my daughter brought home some of what she'd prepared at the nursing home. She described the dish as, "a kind of Greek" chicken which is from here on out shall be dubbed, Faux Greek Chicken.
My daughter is a much better cook than I am; much better than I ever was, better than I will ever be.
Mostly because she loves it (I never did) and because she has patience and is excited to learn more.
I do, however, enjoy tasting her creations and will occasionally serve as her sous.
It is all good.
