the birth of a food baby

my food journey begins as a young girl exploring the world in a kitchen. i soon realized that it wasn’t cooking i loved as much it was eating what i cooked. i’d say my love of cooking started because of my LOVE for EATING. i used to make cookies for my family and sometimes sent them with my dad for his office girls. i remember them telling me that i made the best snicker-doodle cookies they’d ever had (not true i’m sure but they wanted to boost my confidence). soon i branched out and started to bake/cook for my two brothers and their friends (ok ok i’ll admit it, most the time it was because i thought one of their friends was cute), i was no dummy and knew early on that food was a good way into the heart of a boy.

for no good reason after a few years of experimenting in the kitchen it all came to a crashing halt. it wasn’t until i was in high school that i started cooking again and only then because my dad and step mom made me cook dinner once a week. with a combined family of 7-9 kids (depending on the year) living at home they enlisted me to help since i was the only girl over the age of three. did i mention that i hate being forced to cook or being forced to do anything against my will? it’s true, i don’t like it being expected of me, i do it because i want to do it and not because someone tells me to. where’s the fun in that? so i cooked meals consisting of grilled cheese sandwiches, mac & cheese from a box, hamburger helper, white rice, waffles or any pre-cooked meal from the freezer.

since those four years of being forced to make family dinners it took me 7-8 years to come back to the thought of wanting to cook. in fact for holiday dinners i would always volunteer to wash the dishes rather than to help cook or prepare anything in the kitchen. so here is where my true food/cooking story begins… fueled by my love for food i open my mouth to a journey filled with many new and tasty experiences.