Food has always been a comforting presence in my life ever since I was a little girl watching my mom cook in the kitchen every night. She rarely displayed affection towards my older sister and me, unlike other moms who wold hug and kiss their daughters and tell them how much they were loved, but I always knew that my mom loved us when I tasted her food. I spent most of my childhood days after school at my parents’ restaurant where I learned the basics of food prepping such as chopping vegetables, beating eggs, and peeling shrimp by the bucketload. Around dinner time, my mom would drive my sister and me home and even after a long day of serving and waiting tables, she would head into the kitchen and make a homemade meal for the two of us and wait to eat with my father when he came home after closing time. Her dishes were definitive of simple, home-style cooking, that not even the finest-dining institutions could ever hope to reproduce. To this day, they are still the most comforting and soul-satisfying meals I have ever fasted because they were made with all the love and care a mother has for her children.
Throughout the years, I developed a strong connection with my mom during the times we spent together in the kitchen. Her trust in me and belief in my abilities gradually grew stronger as I grew older. I remember always watching her use the hand mixer to whip up egg whites or cake batter, and then the defining day when she handed over the mixer to me, as it it were the Olympic torch. The next highlight of my kitchen experiences came the day my mom asked me to help her prep the meats and vegetables for dinner that night and handed me the cleaver that has been in my family longer than I have been alive and my sister, too, for that matter. This day came a couple years later after my first encounter with the cleaver when I was around seven years old. My mom was busying chopping carrots on the cutting board and I felt like snacking so I reached up over the counter to try and grab a piece. My mom nearly chopped off my index finger! That incident left me with a scar up until high school, but it never deterred me away from the kitchen. I suppose my strong will and determination to remain next to her in the kitchen showed her just how much cooking together meant to me.
These interactive lessons in the kitchen with my mom taught me how to express love through my own food, and now having found the love of my life, I truly believe that the secret to a man’s heart is through his stomach! Anthony and I both share a passion for food, albeit he enjoys eating more so than cooking, but nowadays he has been spending more time in the kitchen helping me out and creating recipes of his own!
CookingHow.com was started to share our love of cooking and eating to the rest of the world. Our hope is to expand your palette and whet your appetite by showcasing foods and dishes that not only reach the senses, but also comfort the soul…made with love using the freshest ingredients of the season. By sharing our life experiences in the kitchen with you, we hope that you, too, will come to enjoy the simple pleasures of life that food has to offer, whether it be a sweet cherry red tomato picked straight from the vine and savored right in the garden on a warm summer evening, or a hearty bowl of beef stew simmering on the stove all day long and served on a cold winter’s night. Perhaps you will become as inspired as we have to bring the joy of cooking back into your homes and into your lives, following the adage that a family who cooks and eats together, stays together!