Why I Cook

I was five years old when I discovered I loved to cook, but it wasn’t until I was in my forties that I realized why.

The course of my life changed drastically when, at the age of four, when my parents decided to divorce. My once stay-at-home mom had to go to work. My dad wasn’t with us anymore. I didn’t understand what was happening, but I knew I didn’t like it. My grandmother stepped in to care for my brother and me while our mom was at work. She saw how difficult divorce was on her grandchildren, and her remedy, probably because she didn’t know what else to do, was to cook with us.

I remember the moment I fell in love with cooking like it was yesterday - I was helping my grandmother bake a cake for my dad’s birthday. What started out as mostly me making a mess somehow, with her gentle guidance, transformed into a truly lovely thing. The cake was beautiful, stacked high, frosted smoothly with Italian buttercream, and covered with colorful sprinkles. I wondered just how did all that flour, sugar, butter, eggs, and milk turn into delicious perfection? And why did it make me so happy?

Many of my early food memories are centered around my grandmother’s kitchen, cooking elaborate meals and baking up a storm. Her kitchen was alive with pots simmering on the stove, things roasting or baking in the oven, aromas wafting through the house. I was spellbound by it all. When we were cooking, I felt in control of what was happening around me and that gave me comfort, something I greatly needed at the time.

Back at home, my mom was working a lot; she had two kids to provide for and there was little time left to cook for us. Around the age of 11, I felt confident enough in the kitchen to fill that role and take a little stress out of my mom’s world. I’ll admit, it wasn’t my grandmother’s kitchen, and she wasn’t there to guide me, so my level of “cooking” was a bit sub-par; we ate a lot of Hamburger Helper, a lot of frozen or canned veggies, a lot of instant mashed potatoes. I was baking from a box instead of from scratch, but I was helping my family the only way I knew how. What mattered was I was cooking for them — it never mattered how.

Food has a universal power to bring people together and create happiness. It’s a common bond that connects all races, nationalities, and backgrounds. Years ago, when we hosted an exchange student from Norway, I knew right away the quickest path for her to feel at home with us would be in the kitchen. We cooked a lot of meals together. We made a day out of shopping trips to source ingredients so she could cook some of her favorite meals for us. We shared our cultures in the kitchen. It was a wonderful experience, no doubt made even better through food.

Cooking is one of the most personal and intimate things you can do for someone. What better way to show love or care for others than by feeding them with something you’ve created (even if you follow a recipe, you’re still creating). Cooking can also heal; we bring food to those who are grieving, we cook to mend a broken heart, we make chicken soup to nurse a cold. When life overwhelms us, cooking can be a welcome distraction with comforting results.

Through classes at The Culinary Cottage, I discovered the true gift my grandmother gave me. I realized why I cook. I cook to show love, to bring people together, to help myself and others heal. I cook to a have a bit of control when things feel chaotic. I cook to nourish the body, mind, and soul. By teaching people to cook, I am able to share the gift that was given to me. I’m grateful for the opportunity to accomplish something much bigger than just teaching someone to how to cook, because it’s the why that truly matters.

PS: we’d love to hear why you love to cook - leave us a comment below!

Cheers from my kitchen to yours.

-Nicole

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