Yep

Charlie Brown had it right when he said there was nothing like the clobbering of a cherished belief.

We all want to believe in something. And most of the time, we do a pretty good job of pinning our hopes on the right bright star that will be our goal for that time and place. But other times, our personal ambition or our own desires scream so loudly that the choices before us are narrowed to one and it turns out to be the wrong one.

Most women want to believe their cooking rivals the Betty Crocker cookbooks and that their baking puts the kind people at Duncan Heinz into fits of tears and tantrums. Some of those women would be right and their food is delicious beyond belief with presentations that rival the competitions held for money and prizes and fame.

The rest of us stave off starvation with occasional zenith like flashes of brilliance in an otherwise nutritional, albeit dimly lit, diet. It isn't intentional. But family cooking isn't exactly an opportunity to show off your best culinary skills. It's more like a feeding frenzy at the zoo.

Money, time and willingness certainly come into play. But more important is the fact that within any family comprised of more than one person, there are multiple taste buds to consider. And within those taste buds are well defined definitions of what is considered 'good food'.

I have a friend who is worried that her child's current addiction to peanut butter and jelly 3 times a day will ruin him for life. I have tried to reassure her that he is not starving and that he will outgrow his desire for a PBJ three times a day every single day of his life. But, the truth is that if he NEVER outgrows his affectation, there are certainly worse things that you can be addicted to with much worse side effects than peanut butter breath.

Every year our church sponsors a chili cook off during the winter. I generally enter one of the several varieties of chili that I routinely cook at home. Although I have never won the cook off, I have ribboned several times. But though I have not won yet, I have never felt too awful about it since I know that I am not a professional chef skilled in the myriad arts and sciences necessary to "create a culinary cabaret", to lift a few lyrics from Disney's "Beauty and the Beast".

What I do know is that my family is well fed if not entertained by their meals. I can't guarantee a visual feast, but the tummy is filled and the wolf within is fed so that the growling is at a dull roar. And even if the presentation isn't Better Homes and Gardens beautiful, no one will have to leave the table without seconds or thirds of whatever they want to eat.

On the whole, maybe the object of merely filling the tummy IS the job description of the household chef. Make sure the ravenous beasts who show up to eat are fed decently enough to prevent a complete breakdown. Or to prevent whining.