Why culinary arts? My love of food goes back to childhood. I remember… humm, what I remember is refusing to eat about 90% of the fare available in my home. It wasn’t that wonderful meals weren’t lovingly prepared, but my version of eating my greens was an occasional Granny Smith apple.
Let’s fast forward to my teenage years. Like most adolescents, I was different. I was determined to be proactive in saving mother earth and her creatures. So I put down my aerosol Aqua Net hairspray and became a vegetarian. The only stumbling blocks to my new lifestyle were a hatred of vegetables and naturally flat hair. So I purchased a tub of hair gel and became a grainetarian. French fries, toast, and cereal were my dietary staples. Then, some months later, a kindhearted individual intervened and drove thru McDonalds. “What do you want?”, she asked. I ordered a Big Mac (which does have lettuce!) and decided to leave saving mother earth to the next generation. It was around this time I made a solemn vow not to have a kitchen in my grown-up house. There was no need; I was NEVER going to cook!
In my 20’s I bought an orange plastic box full of 70’s recipe cards. Not to learn to cook but the retro look would be a nice addition to seldom used apartment kitchen. I never once used the cards, but I did venture into cooking. Nullifying my ‘well thought-out’ plans, again. Did I mention that I am notorious for such behaviors? At any rate, I became a creative amateur cook, with a 50% edible rating.
Then, a few years ago, looking for a priceless antique or at the very least a valuable ancient coin in the attic of a relative’s house, I found a baking recipe book. Little did I know that musty, dusty cookbook would be one of the most significant instruments of change in my life…
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