Cooking School: Convincing other cooks in Jesus' name

Julia Childs couldn't have been prouder! Everything was gathered, gas burner, fresh cow's milk, rock salt, even sugar in a broken bottle. Just move the cat and we're ready for cooking school.

One of the practical things we do in the village is to help raise the living standards of the folks we meet. Whether in the field or in the home we try to teach them something they hadn't known before. Oatmeal is a practical, simple solution to their diet but a foodstuff they don't enjoy.

Besides the oatmeal, when a man comes close to food preparation in Albania, it throws doubts on the project. I would love to have helped in the cooking but Sarah thinks the "uneducated" tend to jump in and spoil the endeavor. It was easy to see these doubts having their effect on the ladies. Even the cat was more cautious. My role was thus reduced to taking pictures.

The women were harmlessly indifferent as the milk boiled. They sat back looking over the procedure like they were attending the funeral of a second cousin. Entertainment was the next phase as they moved closer to watch Sarah mix oats, salt and sugar into the pan. Curiosity was having a fresh start. With the mixture thickening, their attention was beginning to border on reverence as Sarah stirred and waited. Finally a gray paste emerged.

Sarah put in a spoon and motioned. No one moved. Their caution and reserve had a certain frankness about it. Their four faces looked like Mt. Rushmore. Sarah looked at me and I obliged with one big spoonful. All four ladies looked astonished and puzzled. Their big soft eyes waited for my reaction. Instead I took another taste and another.

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