For years cooking and eating have both been strong passions of mine. I consumed both with eager- literally and figuratively, flavors were captured and remembered while pairings where learnt and known to the best.
But eventually I thought, when will...
Growing up as a little girl in sunny Sacramento California, my mother would always prepare homemade meals for my family and turn on cooking shows. My eyes would eagerly wander to the TV as my attention span focused on that one thing to keep me happy and quiet as a three year old.
But, by the time I was four I was in the kitchen cooking with my mom and investing in those TV shows even more than I already had. My mom was having me help stir things and even prep items on plates and cutting boards.
She would make meals such as soups, macaroni and cheese, big breakfast's, lasagna, and even more that made my whole entire family happy.
Eventually I got really invested in this whole thing I wanted to be a chef from that point on.
I remember telling my intermediate family and then telling my grandparents. Of course they smiled and told me to follow my dream because I was young and that's what family would do.
As the years carried on that dream stuck with me. No matter how much troubles came along the way or what I saw-that dream was with me without any nudges. I would help my mom cook more often then ever, after we moved to a permanent home still in the same area-I was at the age of seven-I had learned way more and was exploring beyond the barrier. I wasn't afraid to get my hands dirty. I wasn't afraid to touch raw meat to make sure I rubbed it well with seasonings.
In fact-I found it all fun, there was never a moment where cooking lead me astray or felt dull.
Eventually I felt let down by how it made me look, I had to make a change. I had to adjust some things and still make sure I was learning.
I neded to lose weight and stay healthy, but learn flavors and cook everyday. I needed to cook more. I was now fifteen going into a culinary program and wanted to be well experienced. So, I started making my own recipes.
I began with the most obvious thing.
Substituting ingredients.
Rice-it was always something so good to me. My mom made it perfectly. Sticky and flavorful but well put and balanced. I needed to not eat as much. To stop with so much starch and eat something like it but healthier. I found whole wheat cous cous at my local Trader Joe's that was the best substitute I could think of.
When I first made it I hadn't known what to do with it. I threw in some tomatoes and avacado and chicken already store bought.
But it was lacking flavor and in all honesty was a bit dry. I knew that changes had to be made.
Next time I made it I added more Olive oil and used paprika, salt, pepper, thyme.
I used Olive oil in it every time after that when it was left with clean results. In fact, I used Olive oil in everything that instead used butter. I never put butter in my meal. I knew that with Olive oil it was healthier and with the fats in it, it was good fats.
As the couscous trails went on it wasn't until my most recent invention that I was finally satisfied. A healthy shrimp fried rice.
My mom and dad both tried a bite and were taken aback by the flavors and grew curios of the entirety of it all. Asking for me to make it the next day for them to have a plate of it.
I got the recipe more together trying to remember what I used. I had only experimented scared it wouldn't taste at all good, but, I was proven wrong when I took a bite.
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