How done is done

When you get married you both bring different customs and practices to the marriage and sometimes they clash. This became blatantly clear when I watched my MIL clean the kitchen floor with the dish rag and put it back in the sink. My Mother would skin my hide if I did that. Most of those things are resolved in the first couple years of marriage but there are always a few differences that linger. If they linger long enough they become issues.



We have an issue with cooking meat in our house which was clearly illustrated a couple of Christmas' ago. Both my parents and my husbands Mom were here to celebrate. My Mom and I had spent the day carefully preparing the turkey. Everything was taken into consideration; how long to thaw it out, how heavy was it, how long would it need to cook and when did we want to eat etc. The potatoes are finished. The gravy made. The vegetables are done and the salad is on the table. The turkey is checked... by my MIL and husband. They took the turkey out earlier then my Mom and I had planned. The meat thermometer had not reached the poultry finished line; it was close but not there. My Mom did not believe the turkey was done and the cooking time and meat thermometer supported her position. She left the room visible upset. However, that turkey came out and was eaten. We survived but it shows the different backgrounds we come from. My family... wait until the thermometer gets there... don't take any chances... it's better dry than under cooked. His family... you don't want to over cook... it will keep cooking even after you take it off the heat... close it good enough... if the rest of the meal is ready the meat is done.

Another thanksgiving we are at my husbands Aunts. The whole family is there and they ask my husband to carve the Turkey. As he cuts into it he realizes the turkey isn't done. Like really isn't done. It's bright pink on the inside. Still slimy. Most people would have put it back in the oven. Not his family. They (my husband) cut off the parts that look done and served it up. Even if I hadn't been pregnant and experiencing some morning sickness I wouldn't have eaten that turkey. Hello- its still raw! I made darn sure Grandma didn't put any of it on my daughter's plate too. She looked at me strange but that's pretty usual.

This particular difference has become an issue. I don't know how many times I have cut into a piece of BBQ to see... not cooked enough... pink chicken or especially pork... still fleshy and put it into the microwave. He even likes his french fries a little on the undercooked side and he gets so offended when I say anything or microwave things. He once told me that he wouldn't cook anymore, after I suggested he ask for a second opinion before he declares something done. That's great! So my options are eat raw meat or do all the cooking.

If I had only known I needed to get food poisoning once to stop the arguments. Things have been a little different since early this summer. We were camping with his mom (who always takes his side on this. "I like mine a little on the rare side" and always seems to be around when it happens. ) and my husband starts cooking up the bacon. Within hours we are all pooping. Thank goodness the girls never ate any. They also didn't eat any potato chips the night before but food poisoning from potato chips sounds a little weak when there is bacon involved. We come home and poop. Three days of pooping with a combined weight loss of 15ish pounds and we know it's food poisoning. The chills and stomach craps. No more said. The doctor confirms it and gives us meds.

A couple days later we are good until... the BBQ starts again at you guessed it... at the MIL's. He hands me a piece of pork saying "This one is cooked the most."

I cut in and there it is... undercooked pork chops... still fleshy... still bleeding... alot. I say "This isn't done."

MIL says "I'll trade maybe there is another one that is done more. I like mine on the rare side."

Husband "I'll put it back on the BBQ"

What? Trade? Back on the BBQ? Never in all my years of marriage has either of these options been available. Gone is the defensiveness in it's place I have accommodation. Finally!
When I go to a restaurant I am asked "How would you like it done?" Somehow my preferences at home were never really acknowledged; until food poisoning. My answer has never changed and never will change. "I would like it cooked, please... No not kicking... Cooked." and I may just start getting it that way.