18 November 2009

This is so NOT me in the kitchen. It's actually not really any woman in the kitchen but there are those who are so very skilled at creating divine things in the kitchen - that they seem magic to me. I get that there is no magic wand, but sometimes I am not sure.

I have always observed from a distance, accepting my role as the "best cleaner upper around" and am always very happy when I somehow found myself in the company of others who love to cook. I don't love it. I don't really even like it. But I am learning.

In my family, the love of cooking has been passed down in the male genes - I have two brothers who usually knock my socks off and I had a dad whose profound pleasure for nurturing his family through what he concocted in the kitchen was evident at every meal. So I feel like I have a bit of an excuse. But now that I am some one's wife and some one's mother, the reality is that someone has to cook and I can't expect my 7 month old to do it.

So I am learning. And tonight is a perfect example. You see tonight I did not cook for myself or my family, I cooked for a friend - a friend who has been a mother for just about 5 days. A friend who was always the one to feed me. And tomorrow, it is my turn to feed her.

And as I was chopping and dicing and mixing, I realized that something has in fact changed. The pre-mom me probably would have stopped at Whole Foods on the way to her house and picked whatever looked the best. Or maybe the pre-mom me would have chosen a few easy to heat up things from the Farmer's Market. But instead, I actually cooked.

It's nothing complicated, really, but its handmade and its full of heart. Because I can't repay this friend for the many times she has taken care of me. And I don't have a magic wand. But a have a messy kitchen, a home that smells of baking gingerbread and a bag full of goodies for a new mama and her babe and that feels really good.

1 comment:

  1. That's really sweet. Nothing like feelings for a good friend to motivate you. I think I like cooking smells, that cozy yummy smell that fills a house, as much as the eating itself. It's one of my favorite memories from growing up--weekend mornings when the smell of my mom's cooking would wake me up.