Tric Kearney: Junior Cert practical within touching distance and we are drowning in creamy bacon tagliatelle and chocolate brownies
“I’ll do home economics,” our youngest said when asked about her final subject choice for the Junior Cert.
I thought, why not?
Three years later I am seriously questioning the wisdom behind that thought. The Junior Cert practical is within touching distance and we are, quite literally, drowning in creamy bacon tagliatelle and chocolate brownies.
Older siblings also chose home economics a few years ago, but while I remember eating a lot of fruit salad and apple tart, I have no recollection of cooking on this scale.
Yer man is demented as she requests double cream, garlic, and basil from shopping.
“But I bought them yesterday?” he says.
“Yes Dad, but you ate them last night.”
As he’s processing this, she pushes him close to the edge by adding “and another tub of butter.” She finally tips him over a few hours later when she declares: “These brownies aren’t right, I’ll have to make another batch.”
Watching her empty another carton of butter into a bowl I chose not to remind him she may decide to continue this subject to Leaving Cert.
Growing up, my own school choices were limited, to say the least. I attended a girls-only school, run by nuns who saw no need to offer subjects such as construction studies or woodwork. Instead, our choices were, art or German; music or home economics?
Not exactly thinking long term, I chose art. Surely it was easier to draw than to learn grammar?
My second choice, I gave a little more thought. I could play the recorder, but whenever I did, it was met by a distinct lack of appreciation, so it seemed wiser to chose home economics.
I can actually hear my children laughing at the mere idea I spent any time in my life learning either of these subjects, especially when they discover I did so for three years.
Art I found particularly trying. Each Wednesday afternoon I’d arrive for a double class, pull out my pencil case, fully equipped with real drawing pencils, a ruler and rubber and wait to see what challenge the teacher was about to deliver. “Ladies, today I’d like you to sketch this,” she said one Wednesday, putting a rather shabby, well-worn runner on the table before us. “Take your time. Think about what you see, the depth, the light, the shape of this runner.”
I nodded, taking note of all her suggestions, not really understanding what she was talking about. I began to draw, and rub out, draw and rub out. As I did, the teacher wandered around, pausing at each student offering words of advice or praise. Finally, she stood behind me. There was silence. The shoulders of the classmates on each side of me shook as I waited.
“Explain this to me,” she said, head cocked to one side.
“Em,” I struggled. “It’s the runner,” was all I could offer.
Needless to say, art was not among my leaving cert subjects.
I fared marginally better in Home Economics, although I do remember harbouring feelings of tremendous envy towards Olivia, the girl whose buns and scones always rose sky high.
Unfortunately, sewing was also part of the course, and I was as gifted at that as I was at art. Our Junior Cert project was to make a nightdress. I followed the pattern and sewed my heart out, only to create something which, like my art, bore no resemblance to the picture I was looking at.
However, in hindsight, I can appreciate that the choices I made so young in life have served me well. Both subjects equipped me with skills I have gone to great lengths to never again use in my life. We’ll have to wait and see if tagliatelle and brownies fare any better.
