Hi everyone, if you would, please read this and tell me how you think, feel free to be nit-picky ;)
It was a typical Wednesday evening, and I was a typical third grader heading towards the kitchen for a drink. Taking a sip of water, I nearly choked when my mother came home baring a knife. A five-inch serrated kitchen knife...in a plastic Wal-Mart shopping bag. Evidently, my mother did not harbor any malevolent intentions, nor was she mentally unstable. What had launched me into a wheezing fit was what she said to me: "Here Hannah, I got this for you. You do like to cook, right?" While what she said was true, I was bewildered nonetheless; being trusted with a knife at such an age was truly a great honor, if only to me.
I had to admit, mother knew best. The new knife fit comfortably in my hand, unlike the cumbersome, but formidable, cleaver I could barely pick up. Cooking was my hobby, though it would be a while before I progressed to the stovetop. The first time I tried to pare an apple with my new knife, I pared off a shred of my skin instead. But practice made perfect, and soon I was effortlessly making fruit salads, without making my skin a salad in the process.
Gradually, I leveled up towards more complicated recipes (by now I had also been bestowed the privilege of using the stove). Cooking, as well as baking, became less of a "Simon says" activity, and more of an "interpretive dance" session. Often times, I would modify the recipe to suit my personal preferences by adding, substituting, or altogether omitting an ingredient or two. Changes were usually subtle: a cup of plain yogurt rather than one of sour cream, a tad less sugar with a few more drops of vanilla extract. Common sense kept me from doing anything too drastic; I have yet to substitute yeast for garlic powder, or vice versa. I have, however, made a noxious blend of avocadoes, apples, garlic and onions (do not try this at home).
Call it a quirk, but my habit of tweaking recipes has allowed me to discover a world a possibility and flavor. A recipe serves as the compass with which I navigate unfamiliar territory; it is up to me to find my way through to reach the destination: a fusion, for better or for worse, of the ingredients. I have, in the process, also gained a more open mind; who says cakes can't be whole wheat, low sugar and scrumptious? Moreover, my idiosyncrasy has transcended the bounds of the Chen family kitchen. In fact, it is present in many, if not all, of the things I do. Whenever possible, I like to think outside the box, to put out a fresh perspective. Even in such subjects like math, where there is frequently only one right answer, I will at times find unconventional approaches in obtaining that answer. But, like my cooking, this does not mean leaving out the essentials-I can guarantee you, two plus two still equals four. My self expression underlies everything I do, making me an individual. I cook, therefore I am.
It was a typical Wednesday evening, and I was a typical third grader heading towards the kitchen for a drink. Taking a sip of water, I nearly choked when my mother came home baring a knife. A five-inch serrated kitchen knife...in a plastic Wal-Mart shopping bag. Evidently, my mother did not harbor any malevolent intentions, nor was she mentally unstable. What had launched me into a wheezing fit was what she said to me: "Here Hannah, I got this for you. You do like to cook, right?" While what she said was true, I was bewildered nonetheless; being trusted with a knife at such an age was truly a great honor, if only to me.
I had to admit, mother knew best. The new knife fit comfortably in my hand, unlike the cumbersome, but formidable, cleaver I could barely pick up. Cooking was my hobby, though it would be a while before I progressed to the stovetop. The first time I tried to pare an apple with my new knife, I pared off a shred of my skin instead. But practice made perfect, and soon I was effortlessly making fruit salads, without making my skin a salad in the process.
Gradually, I leveled up towards more complicated recipes (by now I had also been bestowed the privilege of using the stove). Cooking, as well as baking, became less of a "Simon says" activity, and more of an "interpretive dance" session. Often times, I would modify the recipe to suit my personal preferences by adding, substituting, or altogether omitting an ingredient or two. Changes were usually subtle: a cup of plain yogurt rather than one of sour cream, a tad less sugar with a few more drops of vanilla extract. Common sense kept me from doing anything too drastic; I have yet to substitute yeast for garlic powder, or vice versa. I have, however, made a noxious blend of avocadoes, apples, garlic and onions (do not try this at home).
Call it a quirk, but my habit of tweaking recipes has allowed me to discover a world a possibility and flavor. A recipe serves as the compass with which I navigate unfamiliar territory; it is up to me to find my way through to reach the destination: a fusion, for better or for worse, of the ingredients. I have, in the process, also gained a more open mind; who says cakes can't be whole wheat, low sugar and scrumptious? Moreover, my idiosyncrasy has transcended the bounds of the Chen family kitchen. In fact, it is present in many, if not all, of the things I do. Whenever possible, I like to think outside the box, to put out a fresh perspective. Even in such subjects like math, where there is frequently only one right answer, I will at times find unconventional approaches in obtaining that answer. But, like my cooking, this does not mean leaving out the essentials-I can guarantee you, two plus two still equals four. My self expression underlies everything I do, making me an individual. I cook, therefore I am.
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