I am finding that I surprise myself.
Last night, as I was printing out inspiration for dinner, I realized that out of all the things that I enjoy, I am beginning to experiment with cooking the most.
That thought literally made me stop. Made me plant my feet on the way to the printer. To understand this response, you must know that while growing up, I was by-far NOT the cook of the family. Not at all. I was the baby. The chopper of ingredients. The salad-maker. The stirrer. The pot-watcher. Definitely not the master chef.
To illustrate, I will share with you a very vivid memory. I was in middle school, home alone with my extremely sick sister. Like any sick person, she wanted soup. Not home-made soup, but just regular old soup from the can. I panicked (if there is one reaction that has been consistent in all of my culinary battles... it’s panic). I cried with the overwhelming idea that I had to learn - on my own, no less - how to make something more than a sandwich.
I got through the “soup ordeal,” reading the instructions very carefully... not missing a word. But as you can see, the thought that I may actually be inspired by cooking more than I am by clothes (okay... maybe a long ways off) or hair or makeup or painting is near ridiculous.
And with that realization came the flood of other realizations. Realizations like... it is so funny how our lives turn out so much different... so much better... than we’d hoped. When I was 19, I barely knew how to boil an egg. Now, I am creating my own recipes. And, pardon me, but they are good! Who knew that this little cook was hiding underneath all that fear, waiting to burst out.
Now, I’m not saying by any means that I’m a master. No, no, no, no, no. I am just saying... I’m learning. I’m creating. I’m having fun. I’m not afraid of the rice cooker or the (gluten-free) bread maker. Not afraid of the wok or the millions of kinds of flours! I’m saying... I love cooking!
(Last-night’s recipe coming soon...)
Last night, as I was printing out inspiration for dinner, I realized that out of all the things that I enjoy, I am beginning to experiment with cooking the most.
That thought literally made me stop. Made me plant my feet on the way to the printer. To understand this response, you must know that while growing up, I was by-far NOT the cook of the family. Not at all. I was the baby. The chopper of ingredients. The salad-maker. The stirrer. The pot-watcher. Definitely not the master chef.
To illustrate, I will share with you a very vivid memory. I was in middle school, home alone with my extremely sick sister. Like any sick person, she wanted soup. Not home-made soup, but just regular old soup from the can. I panicked (if there is one reaction that has been consistent in all of my culinary battles... it’s panic). I cried with the overwhelming idea that I had to learn - on my own, no less - how to make something more than a sandwich.
I got through the “soup ordeal,” reading the instructions very carefully... not missing a word. But as you can see, the thought that I may actually be inspired by cooking more than I am by clothes (okay... maybe a long ways off) or hair or makeup or painting is near ridiculous.
And with that realization came the flood of other realizations. Realizations like... it is so funny how our lives turn out so much different... so much better... than we’d hoped. When I was 19, I barely knew how to boil an egg. Now, I am creating my own recipes. And, pardon me, but they are good! Who knew that this little cook was hiding underneath all that fear, waiting to burst out.
Now, I’m not saying by any means that I’m a master. No, no, no, no, no. I am just saying... I’m learning. I’m creating. I’m having fun. I’m not afraid of the rice cooker or the (gluten-free) bread maker. Not afraid of the wok or the millions of kinds of flours! I’m saying... I love cooking!
(Last-night’s recipe coming soon...)
2 comments:
Girl, I've been feeling the same way! I miss your curry!
Me too, Markie! You know I'm a terrible cook and so I started cooking dinner for my family every Monday night to start getting the hang of it and I am loving it. Crazy...
Post a Comment