Sun streaming through the window, the sound of laughter can be heard outside over the classical music filtering through the pine-scented air. A typical experience of my childhood was spending time in the kitchen of my Grandmother’s cabin as family floated about concocting dishes of exemplary flavor. My younger brother and I would hang around the fringes of all this activity, hoping to catch a morsel before it went out the door to waiting guests, but most times we would just get underfoot and be sent outside to create our own chaos.
However, the memory is still clear from that one hot summer when my uncle took both of us under his wing and gave us our first real instruction in cooking. continue reading >>