Learn to cook something.

We're all invited, from time to time, to someone's house and asked to bring a dish.

For some of us, the cooks among us, it's no big deal. We'll bring our "famous" meatballs or chicken-whatever or killer salad or to-die-for dessert. After all, everyone has always told us how great it is, and it only takes a little time to put together.

For others of us, it's a time to panic. Bring a dish? What dish? We don't cook, have no idea how to cook, never learned to cook, and don't want to now. We're reduced to buying something from a trusted deli or even just the neighborhood grocery store -- a pie, a salad, a side dish -- and trying to pass it off as our own. Or, worse, admitting that we didn't make it ourselves.

That's why it's good to know how to cook at least one dish. Something you can always contribute to a pot-luck and be sure it will be well-recieved. And everyone knows you actually made it. And it's better than they could make!

That's the kicker, of course. If you make a "signature" dish -- Mary's brownies or Ken's swordfish casserole -- you have to learn how to make it and be sure it turns out just right every frigging time.

Not to worry. Over the years I've learned how to make three dishes that always turn out right.
And I'm going to share them with you now.

I won't give you exact measurements, just a narrative that you can adjust as you please, okay?

MASHED POTATOES

You need these ingredients: several pounds of potatoes (Yukon Gold are best), a small can of evaporated milk, some butter (the more the better), some salt. You peel the potatoes and then cut them into large chunks and boil them until you can easily poke a fork into them (firm but not quite falling apart). You put them into a bowl and add the other ingredients and mash them, with a potato masher (more efficient than a fork), occasionally stirring, until they are the consistency you want them. Don't put them into a blender, which turns them into goo. Think of the difference between smooth and crunchy peanut butter: who wouldn't prefer the crunchy? You want a few tiny chunks in your mashed potatoes, for texture but also to prove that you made them yourself. If too dry, add more evaporated milk; if too bland, add more butter and sprinkle in a little more salt. That's all there is to it. And it works every time. Trust me. Make them a day before and refrigerate. They re-heat well in the microwave.

BEANS

Beans are a wonderful food. Flavorful, rich in protein, a perfect side dish for any meal -- or a meal in themselves, if cooked the right way.

Few invitees to a potluck volunteer to bring beans, so here's where you can shine.

Take a package of dried beans (not canned). Any kind, depending on what you like, often in a one-pound (or less) package. Great Northern and Navy are good whites; Pinto is the best red.
Pour a couple of cans of chicken stock into a pot along with some ham hocks (sold in a package in the deli of your grocery store). Heat to boiling. Cover and let run at medium heat a while: you're letting the meat soften and separate from the bone. Add the dried beans. Cover again and lower the heat. (NOTE: The lower the heat, the easier it is for you to keep checking, to be sure things are going okay.) At some point before the beans are done, take the ham hocks out and strip the meat off the bones, chopping it if you want. Put back in with the beans. At the same time, chop a few bulbs of garlic and some onion. How much is up to you, but I vote for more. Chop the garlic fine, the onion not so fine, and add to the beans. Stir. Cover again, still on LOW. I like to add chopped carrots at this point: they're good for me, and they don't interfere with the beans.

Keep an eye on the beans as they cook. Stir occasionally. To know if they're done cooking, spoon out one or more, at any point in the cooking, and taste: if it's too firm, doesn't "melt in the mouth", more cooking is needed. Once you're convinced the beans are cooked, take them off the burner, give them a good stir, and either leave them covered or not as you prefer.

RIBS

No one except vegetarians can resist a rack of perfectly done pork ribs, sizzling on a platter, irredescent in barbecue sauce, hinting of The Old South. And you can make these with almost no trouble. I've done it, many times, and, as I hope I've made clear, I'm no great cook. Here's how to do it. Always pick baby back pork ribs. They're the tenderest and shortest and what most of us think of when we think of eating ribs. Of course they're more expensive than their bigger, coarser kin, which you have to chop into pieces, but we're thinking of impressing friends and neighbors here, right? A few extra bucks once a year just might be worth it.

Here's the easy part: it's all done in a crockpot and (briefly) an oven.

Put the ribs into the crockpot and apply -- I do it by hand -- a barbecue sauce of your choice. Try to stand them up, not against the sides of the crockpot, where they're likely to stick. Put a layer of aluminum foil under the lid of the crockpot (to better seal in the juices) and close the lid. Set to cook for a few hours on LOW. Check from time to time with a fork to see when the meat is ready to fall off the bones, at which point you want to arrange the ribs (already cooked) on a baking tray. Brush them with barbecue sauce and put them in the oven on a rack near the top. Turn the oven to BROIL and start. NOTE: Keep a good eye on the ribs after a minute or so, as they can blacken on top if left even a few seconds too long. Once you've seen that they're crisping up on top, not burning/blackening, take the tray from the oven and turn the ribs over and repeat the process, being very careful to monitor the cooking as you're looking, on both sides, for a slight "char", not a burn.

When you think they're done, take them from the oven and set them out to finish. They're ready to eat immediately, of course, and it's hard to resist a hot pork rib crisp on the outside and so moist and delicious on the inside. And that's the way these turn out. Almost every time.

(Do be watchful when they're in the oven under BROIL: one time I wasn't and set off all the fire alarms in the house. Very embarrassing.)

So there you have it: three dishes you can do very easily and claim as your own the next time someone asks you to bring something to a potluck dinner. Instead of that pie you were going to buy or that bag of bagels or chips you were going to bring, you can actually say, "Let me do the mashed potatoes" or "I can cook a pot of beans" or "I do a mean pork rib" -- and mean it!

And if you're ever called upon -- God forbid! -- to cook a whole meal for friends or relatives, this is it! Good old Southern cooking done easy. Just heat some ears of corn in the microwave, in a container with a loose but not air-tight top, a little water in the bottom to help them steam, for five minutes or so (until the kernels pop easily, releasing liquid), and slather with melted butter, sprinkled with salt. (Buy some of those cheap corn-holders to spare diners' fingers from the butter. If you get the plastic kind, they can heat in the microwave along with the corn.)

That's pretty much all I know about cooking. Everything I learned to cook I did because I wanted something that tasted good and wasn't hard to make. Believe me, if I made these dishes and they tasted good, which I did and which they do, you can, too.

Oh, by the way I do have two more dishes I kind of know how to cook: Texas-style chili and a thirty-minute beef stew, which is surprisingly good. More on those later.

Bon appetit!