Since I don’t really know where to begin, I’ll just begin at the beginning. The beginning is my first attempt at cooking. I was home for my first summer break from college. At school I had decided to become vegan. My mom didn’t know anything about cooking vegetarian, much less vegan, so we went to the bookstore together to pick out some vegetarian cookbooks that a friend had recommended. After browsing the recipes together, we decided that tomato sauce for spaghetti would be a good place for me to begin because I had always loved spaghetti and it seemed like a straightforward thing to cook. My mom went to work the next day and that afternoon I tackled my first cooking project totally solo. My poor mom. I was calling her every two minutes:
“Mom, what is a head of garlic and what is a clove of garlic?”
“Oh, okay, so I need to break off the cloves. Okay, bye.”
A moment later I called her again.
“Mom…this papery stuff on the garlic…Do I take that off before I chop it up?”
I got everything chopped and prepped and into the pot and then after a bit it was boiling so hard it was flinging tomato sauce everywhere. I called my mom again.
“Mom…what exactly does simmer mean?”
So you see…even a nimrod can learn how to cook. Even though it was a rather humbling experience, I was hooked. I started cooking regularly, which was wonderful for my mom, who was working very long hours at the time. She told me she really enjoyed coming home to a nice meal that she didn’t have to think about or prepare. I experienced for the first time how gratifying it is to cook for oneself and for others.
So there you have it: my first beginning. Because there are always more beginnings…cooking is an endless adventure. Please go wash your hands and join me.