When I was in school in Iceland around 1984, we had a mandatory cooking and cleaning class. We were taught to cook food and bake, but also to wash and iron our clothes, clean floors and wash the dishes. The class was not bad at all and I have many good memories of those classes. The teachers were two women, who knew what they were doing and were always practical. No bullshit on their watch and I liked them a lot, and not just me. Both of them have now passed on. I remember one time in the winter of 1984 when I was tasked to bake a bread loaf, along with half of the class. It was morning on a Wednesday and I was tired. I made the recipe, but the dough in the metal thing and then into the oven. We waited for about 30 minutes and took it out, only to find out that it had not risen any. I had forgotten the yeast or some other thing, and I got a small scolding for it. We after that I made improvements in performance in this class and made good cakes, and food. In a month or so, I heard from other students that they knew my name and they had seen my work from the cooking class. I was kind of proud and wondered what of my brilliant creations had been of show for the others, and then they told me that the teachers had shown my bread loaf to all the other classes and an example of how not to make their bread loaf.
