One of the best things about having a job in food is that I can share it with my family. Whether that’s literal in the sense that we can eat the food I’ve cooked together, or sending photos and recipes to family members who can’t be there to try what I’ve cooked.
Usually after I cook something that I intend to post, I take a small portion for myself upstairs to my room, and eat while editing or writing. By the time I come downstairs, no matter how much I’ve cooked, the whole meal is gone. That probably defeats the purpose of food being for family togetherness but it’s a system that works for us. It would be a better system if they left me more food but that’s a rant for the whatsapp group.
Obviously, my mum was cooking and baking long before I was but the second I took an interest, it’s been a combination of backseat driving and at other times, complete refusal to cook because apparently I do that now. Think about how confusing that gets.
Imagine, I’m in the kitchen, cooking some dinner for everyone. I’m spending hours perfecting the flavours, the presentation while writing down the recipe so I can make it again. By the time I’m done, I’ve lost my appetite, but I still take a small portion to analyse critically while I edit the photos I took, and maybe write a piece. By the time I’m done, say two hours later, I’m actually hungry and I’m ready to have a full size portion. So I go into the kitchen, but all I see is a piece of broccoli. A half eaten piece of broccoli that my little sister has eaten and then spat out because she doesn’t like broccoli.
I don’t say anything, of course. I smile and thank my family for enjoying the food, and stare enviously at their plates filled with at least two portions and then retire upstairs and think oh where did I go wrong?
My mum is an identical twin and one of her favourite hobbies is to send pictures of my food to her sister, meaning that I will eventually get a call or text asking “Why do you never cook like this when I come over? Don’t I deserve this food too?”
It’s important to add that I haven’t seen my auntie in the flesh since 2019, so it isn’t like I’ve been withholding my cooking skills just to spite her. If you read this auntie, I am truly sorry. I’ll send you some chocolate to make up for it.
Thanks for reading, and have a lovely day.