My maternal and fraternal grandparents were in the food industry business before I was even born. My parents and aunts also continued that legacy for many years. That explains my love/hate relationship with the kitchen.
When I was little, my parents were busy enough to get food ready for hundreds, and even thousands of people, so there was no room for me to play around the kitchen. When possible, I would try to cook something and someone would always "fix" it for me or tell me what I was missing. This made me lose any interest on cooking. I felt like my parents and family were so good at cooking, that I didn't need to learn, nor did I have any interest anymore. Time went by, and I grew up hating the kitchen. Now, I don't have my mom, aunt or grandmother around the corner to make some banging cooking, but I continue to run into products, vegetables and condiments that they used to prepare my favorite dishes. So, I buy them, take them home and attempt to find those flavors that bring back so many memories. To my surprise, I find comfort in the kitchen. When needed, I call mom to verify ingredients. She has thought me that there is no such thing as a "recipe", it's all about discovering flavors and getting the best out of each ingredient you use. It's so magical trying to find that exact point where incredible flavors combine and complete each other for an explosion of taste.
After all, I think that cooking is in my blood. I have to adapt recipes to our healthy lifestyle, and the lucky one to taste my kitchen successes and failures is my husband, but thankfully he is a good sport for it.
Cannot wait until the weekend to head over to the City Market in Kansas City and get fresh vegetables to keep experimenting!
Eat, Love, Adventure Out!
DaniG