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I Blame My Mother

My mother bought me a crock pot.
She taught me how to cook when I was little.
She made me feel at home in the kitchen.

A week ago I made soup in my crock pot. I shared with my neighbors because let's be honest there was a lot of soup.Let's be honest cooking is the most rewarding when you can cook for others. And let's be honest, boys will eat anything. Well they thought it was great (which I won't lie after a long day of school it did taste pretty fantastic!) One of them commented that he didn't know I could cook so well. 

Later in the week one of my roommates told me that I "always cook 'exotic' things."
I don't think I would ever consider what I cook to be 'exotic' or anything like that.

Sunday there was a devotional broadcast so I cooked dinner for a bunch of us and we watched it together.
The same neighbor from before mentioned that he didn't know I enjoyed cooking as much as I do.

I was suddenly thrown back to being 12 or 13 years old when I thought I would grow up to be a chef. I loved cooking and being in the kitchen so much I wanted to make a profession out of it! I chuckled to myself as I shared this with my friend and remembered how thoughts of culinary school 'not being realistic enough' had changed my mind, and how the love I felt for food and cooking and sharing with others hadn't gone away. And how in my third year of college I am tired of eating frozen meals and cooking for one.

So I do cook things that most college students don't. I cook food because I love food. I love feeling like I can create something for others. And maybe most importantly, I feel comfortable and at peace in the kitchen.

Tonight for dinner I made homemade hash browns and an omelet with cheese, onions, bacon, mushrooms, and spinach.

I am a wanna-be chef.


I blame my mother.

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