When I was eight my mom taught my friends and I the basics of cooking in 4-H. Cooking was a chore then and usually reserved for august when we made batch after batch trying to get four perfectly rounded two and a half inch cookies for the county fair.
Well, that was then and this is now. You never realize how much time and effort your mom put into keeping you fed your entire life until you are in your own apartment looking at a barren shelf and wondering what you can make with a can of beans and some freezer burnt chicken. Cooking quickly made the transition from playful chore to survival tactic. I made a few good meals here and there but for the most part I realized the beauty of the PB&J and discovered that you can put pretty much anything on rice.
After spending a year in a possible state of malnutrition I could not wait to go to my parents’ house for the summer. Home promised so many great things but at the top of the list next to no rent was food, and someone’s cooking other than my own. After a few weeks of gorging myself in the simple joys of things I never had like tomatoes, cheese and other various things that were not in my budgeted allowance for food I was ready to take another crack at cooking. I discovered that It was much easier to cook at home, this being greatly attributed to the fact that my parents had a well-stocked fridge and pantry.
(Apple pie I made for the 4th of July)
I started out like I had in the beginning. A batch of cookies. There is a simple joy that comes from making cookies. A chocolate chip cookie has the smell of home and the taste of childhood memories. I was happy when I was in the kitchen. I was ready to try something more. I made eggs with sautéed mushrooms, peppers, and onions. I made my own spaghetti sauce. I learned the skill of a salad, the art of stacking chips, and the joy of fresh vegetables. I have slowly but surely settled into my cooking groove, and I like it.
(My first baking powder biscuits)
1 comment:
yay, food! I love cooking!
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