For the love of food

I loved being in the kitchen with my mother as a kid, especially when she let me help cook. I’d stand on a chair with all the utensils and ingredients laid out on the counter. She’d have me read the recipe on the index card step by step. I’d taste each ingredient before it went into the bowl. I remember the shocking taste of cocoa. How could something that tasted terrible make a chocolate dessert so delicious? And yet, my grandmother Weezie’s brownies were the first dessert I mastered.

My interest in cooking waned in my teenage years and my mother was sure I’d never cook again. Then there was a time in my early 20s that I grocery shopped for my family when times were tough. I had very little money and a low limit on my credit card, so watching items being rung up, and seeing the amount on the register climb, created a lot of anxiety. While these frightening times passed, I’d gained a deep appreciation and respect for food. For having it. For making it last. For knowing how to prepare good meals with just a few ingredients. And eventually, for finding joy in it again.

When I was in my late 20s, a friend gave my girlfriend and me their CSA share for a few weeks. We picked up the vegetables at the distribution site at the church on 86th Street and West End Avenue. The bounty was huge, and I spent hours in our tiny kitchen figuring out what to cook with all the vegetables. I loved it. Soon we joined the CSA. I learned about eating with the cycle of seasons. I learned about Annemarie Colbin and was forever changed by her writing on well-being and food. See her TEDx Talk here. I took cooking classes and dreamed of becoming a chef.

My mother, thrilled at my renewed interest in cooking, bought me cookbooks for birthdays and Christmases. Over the years, I’ve parted with many of the books, and I never became a chef, but my love of cooking deepened. I love everything about making a meal: walking down grocery store aisles, looking thorough cookbooks, reading recipes, Googling what to do with ingredients. I will disappear into kitchenware stores to look at pots and pans and appliances and knives and utensils. Almost every Saturday, after shopping at the farmers' market, I spend an hour or so sorting and chopping and slicing and roasting and boiling and storing food for the week.

I also love when I have the opportunity to feed people and can watch the joy on their faces as they eat. And when the talking stops, because the food satisfies, I know I’ve succeeded in preparing a well-made dish.

To this day, my mother says proudly, “I don’t know how you get the top of your brownies so shiny.” I don’t know either, maybe it’s because making them is simply something I love to do. I look forward to sharing this love of nourishment with you.

I hope you enjoy!