I was never a bad-ass food-cooking prodigy. I’ve always liked food. I was never a super picky eater aside from my childhood hatred of saurkraut (much to the disappointment of my Polish and German family). But I never understood what it meant to cook.
Prime example: My night to “cook” dinner as a kid. I would bust out every ounce of creativity within my reach. My choices for the menu were quite daring. And by daring I mean completely mismatched. But I was working with a height limitation, a slight fear of the heat of the stove, and a strange attachment to my favorite vegetable.
The Menu: Soup and sandwich with a side vegetable.
The Soup – Lipton Chicken Noodle soup. Oh yes, instant soup goodness. I was the expert at heating water and so delicately adding the soup mix. Be sure that I watched that pot carefully and stirred the contents to rid the broth of any of those annoying clumps of powder.
The Sandwich – Tuna Fish. Can o’ tuna, a little bit of mayo, throw in some relish for my mom’s sandwich, toast the bread, lettuce, tomato and ta-da! Simplistic sandwich victory.
Side vegetable – a carrot stick. Raw. I was the master carrot peeler. Actually attempting to slice the carrot into pieces was beyond my skills. I would cut off the funky looking end parts and peel the carrot and DONE. If you don’t like your WHOLE carrot, give it back to me. I love carrots (or atleast I did at age 6).
Although I no longer love carrot sticks and my version of tuna salad sandwich is now much more sophisticated, I still grab that Lipton Soup when I have a cold and need some quick and easy food comfort.
Maybe it wasn’t a big bang start to a cooking career. But it worked for me.