Sitting at the counter I had now grown to see over, the all to familiar smells filled the house from my grandmothers cooking. I wondered, how many days I had spend peaking over the counter. I began to wonder at what point I had began to associate the goodies my grandmother made with who I was? For, as long as I could remember I had been sitting on this stool learning to cook. All the while not knowing I had become the things I ate.
The cookies my grandmother made were always warm and comforting like my grandmas arms when I was scared. They brought everyone to the table despite what everyone had going on. In these moments of cookie bliss, everyone could find a quiet moment away from all the static of the outside world. When the house bussed with family, the smells would fill the rooms and halls giving the space a since of home, as if we were in the right place at this very moment. I would stand on my tippy toes watching her every movement intensely, as to not miss a thing. Her smile was always warm like a fresh chocolate chip cookie right out of the oven. When I was young sweets of all kinds filled the counter till all the space was taken up. Grandma herself had always been the biggest junk food lover in the family. I mean come on; whom do you think we got it from? I can honestly say she was the very first person to plant the seed, for my love of cooking. To this very day my love of cooking has only grown with the endless combinations and creations. My guilty little pleasure being pastry of course, because who doesn’t love desert? My grandma once told me that,” happy food is the best food, because if your angry it will make your food taste bad.” Being young I used to believe that till I realized, cooking was a great outlet. I love making pastry, because it takes so many steps and work; but when it’s all said and done I blissful moment on the couch with a warm gooey cookie is always sublime. I would per into the ovens glass window willing the cookies to be done faster. Grandma would smile and say,” Anything worth anything always takes time.” At first I would just smile and nod, but as I grew older I realized what she had meant was that if you are going to do something you love take the time to do it well. Grandma’s treats were the thing that brought everyone to the table despite how busy or focused on their tasks for the day. It was like her own little way to manipulate the kid within us all to her face time in, as family togetherness and sweets walk hand in hand. So it stands to reason that food has helped shape me into who I am, but better yet the people and the lessons I keep with me everyday.
No comments:
Post a Comment