My Fascination With Cooking

I lived with Grandmother Angeline and watched her as she moved incessantly between pots and pans. We were a large family and although there were other women in the house, the kitchen was Grandmother’s domain and I was the only one allowed inside it. When kids played with bats and balls I played with spoons and forks. Grandma says that she knew when I was seven years old that I had the makings of a cook.

Ever since I was little, I loved the aroma of spices, the smell of freshly baked bread, the smell of rice cakes packed in turmeric leaves and all the numerous smells that emanated out of Grandmas kitchen. I could close my eyes and tell you just by the aroma what was cooking in Grandmas kitchen.

My love for food is all encompassing. The color, the texture, the taste, the smell all these different elements in food talk to me. I cook with my heart. I have the knack of putting two things together and creating magic. I learned to cook from Grandma but / rarely make her dishes. I have a style of my own. Food talks to me, I talk to food. I understand food better than I understand human beings. I do not follow a cook book or recipe. I just seem to know what to do, unlike Maths, where I find the simplest of equations baffling. My fascination with cooking is definitely something I inherited from grandma.