Cooking: Family Tested -- and Approved!

No one believed it when I said I'd be bringing salmon to the next family party.

"Are you getting it from Costco?" my aunt called out from the next room.

"What? No, I'm making it."

Everyone exchanged a series of not-so-subtle glances and immediately began discussing the weather.

Never in the history of family get-togethers had I contributed anything more than sodas, flowers and cranberry sauce on Thanksgiving. Now I was offering to prepare the main course for our Hanukkah dinner. My grandmother reluctantly agreed but sweetly added she'd make lasagna, or maybe a brisket.

My close-knit family knows better than anyone that when I took up cooking, I had no idea what a broiler was for and no real interest in finding out. But the down economy made going to restaurants a luxury. And with two preschoolers to feed, I wanted them to experience something other than dinosaur-shaped chicken.

So over the last year, I enrolled in classes, subscribed to food magazines, downloaded food apps, clipped recipes and even tried (not too successfully) to watch that Sandra Lee cooking show.

I haven't loved it. Cooking is messy and time-consuming, and takes me away from my new iPad. More often than not, I burn things.

But after 12 months of experimentation, I now know what to do with a frozen chicken breast. And if you need someone to make fresh whipped cream, I'm your girl.

The big Hanukkah party, the one with about 20 family members — including some coming in from Ensenada, Calif.; Richmond, Va.; and Chile — was where I'd debut my newfound skill.

Instead of choosing recipes from my fancy, new cookbook collection, I turned to friends.

Jennifer Kostrinsky, a fellow mother-of-two, once served salmon with orange zest and pineapples at a party, and kids actually ate it. Plus, she promised it was easy to make and sent me directions via Facebook.

My Israeli friend, Odeya Mizan, assembles the most delicious salad, with cucumbers, green peppers and tomatoes all diced up and drizzled with olive oil.

"I don't have a recipe," she said. "You just mix everything together until it tastes good."

"But how do you cut the vegetables into perfect little squares?" I asked, trying to hide the panic in my voice.

"You need a dicer; it's easy," she said, before rushing off after her kids.

Armed with a new dicer, I got to work, only mildly freaking out about not having the comfort of a recipe.

I made orange zest, mixed it with powdered sugar, rubbed it on the salmon, dumped a can of diced pineapples in the dish and put it in the oven. But the instructions were vague when it came to a cooking time. I was sure I was either going to burn it or serve it raw.

After 30 minutes, I tasted it. And, wait a minute, wait a minute ... salmon has bones?

Next up was the salad. I diced and diced and diced vegetables with my amazing new gadget, adding salt along the way. Then more salt. Then tons of lemon and olive oil. And it still needed more salt. Was this right?

At least I had enough sense to not make homemade cupcakes once I saw the beautiful fruit tarts at Whole Foods.

The night of the party, sure enough, my dish had to share a spot with brisket AND lasagna. I was relieved. My salmon smelled super fishy, and I was certain everyone would rebel over the bones. My pretty Israeli salad tasted good but had to compete with traditional greens.

"Come on, tell us where you bought it," teased my uncle.

My 3-year-old was the first to try what she called "pink ham," just like the animated character Ponyo eats. Then she asked for seconds. My husband ate some, too, even though he's not much of a "pink ham" guy.

I looked around, amazed that my fish and salad found a spot on everyone's plate.

"Did you really make the cucumbers?" my 90-year-old grandfather asked. "They were excellent."

And that's when it finally sank in: I can cook.

It might not happen every night, and I certainly haven't given up my relationship with the Trader Joe's frozen food section. But going forward, hopefully no one will change the subject if I ever decide to take on the Passover brisket.

ISRAELI SALAD

Two cucumbers

One green bell pepper

One or two Roma tomatoes

One or two lemons

Salt and olive oil to taste

Serves four to six

Peel and dice the cucumbers, and put in a large bowl; dice the pepper and tomatoes, and add to the cucumbers. Drain liquid. Pour juice from one to two lemons over the vegetables. Add plenty of olive oil, about half a cup or more. Add generous amount of salt to taste.

ORANGE-PINEAPPLE SALMON

2 pounds fresh or frozen salmon, preferably without skin

2 to 3 oranges

2 tablespoons powdered sugar

1 can of pineapple chunks

1 teaspoon cilantro, chopped

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grate orange rind until you get two tablespoons of zest (more for a larger cut of salmon). Mix orange zest with powdered sugar until it turns into a paste. Rub the mix over the salmon, and place in a deep cooking dish. Drain half the liquid from the can of pineapple chunks, pour the rest in a bowl. Peel the oranges, cut them into chunks, and add to the pineapples. Add cilantro, mix with a large spoon, and pour the mixture over the salmon. Bake for about 25 minutes or until fish is light pink in the center.

Nina Garin writes for The San Diego Union-Tribune.

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