Boxed macaroni and cheese is all I ever made as a teenager. My mom would argue that even that I couldn't master. I must admit, my mac and cheese didn't always produce the cheesy goodness my family was after. There were plenty of times I fed them bits of flour after having failed to properly break up the powder before mixing into the macaroni.
Now that I finished culinary school and am actually teaching others how to cook--go figure--I think the person I amazed most was my mother. She is blown away that the same daughter with the famed mac and cheese incidents can now put together a real meal--no pouches or powders included--that is tasty, satisfying, well thought out and quickly executed. She is one of my biggest fans, as all good mothers are. But looking back on it I am ever so grateful she never pressured me to cook, although it was something she always did and I always looked forward to. I am glad that cooking was something I myself decided to build on especially after living with my husband and not being able to pull off a real consumable meal. Were it not for my mother passing on her love of flavor and food, and for my countless mac and cheese mess ups who knows if I would have challenged myself to learn to cook and eventually find my passion. So for all of you who can relate to the old me, please keep positive. There is always hope as cooking can be learned through patience, consistency and repetition. And in the slight possibility that all else fails look at the bright side, mac and cheese now comes with a cheesy pouch that you simple stir into pasta unlike the powder stuff I had growing up.
No comments:
Post a Comment