Why I Cook, the First in an Unnumbered Series
Five pounds of romas from the garden...made into sauce, of course! I saw that movie "Julie/Julia" the other night, and I've been thinking a lot about it. Or, more accurately, about what some of it's messages might be/are. The obvious one is that both Julia Child and Julie Powell are "saved" through their kitchen experiences--for Julia Child, it begins as a way for her to spend time while her husband is on a diplomatic mission in Paris, for Julie Powell, it gives purpose to her dream of becoming a writer and an escape from life in an office cubicle.
For me, my first foray into "real" cooking came when I was maybe 10 or 11 years old, and had little to do with keeping myself occupied, or finding myself. One day, while running errands with our mom, my younger sister and I accompanied her to Pier 1 Imports--a great store for everything you want, but not a whole lot that you actually need. For some reason, we were drawn to a shelf of little enameled/plastic plate, rice bowl, and chopstick sets. They were shiny and smooth, and came in bright colors with black trim. My sister and I (for reasons I don't remember) decided we had to have them.
Thankfully, mom wasn't about to cave to the random whims of her two ridiculous daughters, and instead took the opportunity to give us a project and make us learn something. She told us that if we (meaning my sister and I) cooked five dinners from a Chinese cookbook, she would buy us the bowl/chopstick sets. My sister and I would be in charge of picking the recipes and preparing the dinner, mom would bankroll the ingredients.
I don't remember everything we made, but I do remember it was the first time I had every tried Chinese 5 spice and I thought it was just the coolest/strangest smell I'd ever smelled. It was so exotic to my juvenile nose, and definitely different from the garlic and Italian seasonings that were staples in my family's kitchen.
My sister and I held up our end of the bargain, and our parents delivered on their part as well. Five Chinese dinners later, I received the purple dishes, and my sister got the green ones. I remember the supreme gratification I felt eating out of our shiny rice bowls and using our (rather slick and challenging but nonetheless awesome) chopsticks. We had earned those dishes, and also learned a little something along the way.
Looking back now, I think one of the reasons I love to cook stems from those early Chinese food "lessons"--there are few experiences more rewarding than opening up a book, gathering a list of new ingredients (water chestnuts? bamboo shoots?), and turning them into a meal that is exciting and different. After that project, Chinese stir-fries became one of our favorite meals, and we were always looking for ways to create a new sauce, or add a new ingredient. On a slightly more materialistic level (and I think I lot of cooks out there will agree with me), I think this is when I started to realize that there's nothing like wanting to make a new recipe to give you that extra excuse to purchase a new kitchen gadget or dish--new toys are definitely a great reason to get in the kitchen!
And now, my few, loyal readers, I ask you--do you remember the first thing you learned to cook?
Comments
I believe I started cooking when I was old enough to hold a spoon. I was in the kitchen with my mother all the time. She cooked elaborate meals everyday so I was lucky enough to have her as my influence in the kitchen...I'd assume rice was probably one of the first things I learned to cook! :)
Great story!
You are so out of my league, though! The first thing I can remember truly making on my own was mac 'n' cheese from a box. The recipe on the box was incorrect, however...much more butter was required. (~: