But as I grew, my interest in the kitchen waned. I saw the cooking process as drudgery; lists, planning, coupon-cutting, shopping, organizing, dish washing…blech. My perception had changed and despite years of my mom’s patient nudging, I refused to learn kitchen basics and passed-down family recipes. To the extent that my mom’s dreams shifted from successfully preparing her daughter for self-sustenance to hoping she married a chef!
While I did marry someone who is quite gifted in the kitchen, it wasn’t until a few years ago that a passion for cooking awoke within me. A deep sense of satisfaction and pride has emerged from my interest in cooking and baking. Most people would say they are either a “cook” or a “baker”, not both. I, on the other hand, now enjoy all things kitchen related…the tools, ingredients, recipes, flavors, aromas, and most of all, the satisfaction of knowing I have “created” a dish full of love!
I no longer loathe the menu planning or the grocery shopping, and quite enjoy the recipe tweaking, experimenting, and even the “failures” that have all become part of the process. I look forward to my family’s feedback on each new unveiling and enjoy sharing successful recipes with anyone willing to listen. I have been known to spend days obsessing over menu options on the outside chance we will be hosting a family get-together, and I drive my husband crazy asking for menu-prep inspiration.
As an admitted control freak, the kitchen feeds my need for precise measurements, exact calculations, and predictable results. While at the same time, I’m both allowed and encouraged to use my creative side to invent unusual pairings, inspired bites, and unique twists to everyday fare.
But I am also drawn to the magical aspect of cooking (that magic I first witnessed as a very young child). I am taking containers and cans and boxes of ingredients, adding a little love, and turning them into something completely different…something that is more than the sum of its parts…something that is only a success if the right blend of those ingredients is achieved. During the fury of the cooking process, the counter tops are piled high with cutting boards, knives, measuring cups, mixing bowls, and utensils of every size and shape. The double sink holds used sauce pans, vegetable skins and peels, egg shells, and several tasting spoons. The stove top is at full capacity with more pans boiling, sautéing, steaming, and simmering than seems necessary. And my wine glass needs a refill:)
And then, the magic happens…at some point, I am able to present a composed meal to the anxiously awaiting crowd (most nights the crowd is made up of only my husband and youngest son, who eat like a crowd!)! They all too quickly devour the plates and bowls with little to no knowledge of the time or effort that went into the meal. They appreciate it, don’t get me wrong; but to them, it’s just magic! If I was conscientious during my cooking madness, the kitchen is pretty well cleaned and back to normal by the time I present my nightly masterpiece. Consequently, there is no evidence of the creative hurricane that passed through prior to meal time. The family saw the kitchen before and after, in a similar state, so it is by magic alone this meal must have come to be:)