Wednesday, July 9, 2008

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Where It All Began.

Growing up I never had a passion or even an interest in cooking. I was an occasional baker and a frequent dishwasher (doing the dishes meant I didn't have to cook). My mom would try to get me to cook with her, but I refused because I believed I would be the type of women who had a husband who'd cook for her (who's the joke on now?!). I avoided cooking with all my might. Heck, I even had my sister, who's 4 years younger than me, cook for me. There was no getting me in the kitchen.

My feminist take on cooking changed the moment I started living on my own some 5 years ago. It dawned on me that if I wanted to live for longer than a month I would actually have to learn how to make myself food (unfortunately, you can't survive solely on than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches). So I started cooking. Not great cooking, but at least I was in the kitchen. And to my surprise, I actually enjoyed it. It wasn't until we moved to Boston some 3 years ago that I really started cooking. And by really cooking, I mean making good food and enjoying making good food. It was at this time that it dawned on me that if Alex and I were going to survive longer than a week I was going to have to get creative in the kitchen (sadly enough, you can't survive solely on mac & cheese). My love for food was born during the initial months in Boston and it has only flourished as I have pushed myself to new limits and as I have forced myself to explore food outside of my comfort zone of Cuban and Colombian dishes. I now can see why my mom tried to get me to cook when I was younger: it's because she enjoyed cooking and took pride in the food she made. It took me a while to understand this because I saw cooking as something that repressed women. Today I know that cooking (and baking) can be so liberating and exciting. Cooking has become something I truly enjoy and I don't think I would have ever gotten here if it weren't for my mom's amazing food. Thanks mom for introducing me to the real meaning of cooking!

One of my mom's famous dishes: churrasco marinated in beer,
arroz con gandules, and grilled platanos.

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