Ever since we moved to our home last summer, a home that for the first time in years seems somewhat semi-permanent, my parents have been bringing me boxes of my old stuff. Boxes of toys, books, school papers, sticker books, dolls and more have made the trip to our house in the last several months. As I sort through my childhood possessions, I’ve had lots of laughs looking at all my old stuff. But when I came across this, it gave me particular pause:
My first cookbook! I actually remember receiving it from my parents on my birthday long ago:
Check out the groovy pictures:
And the fancy recipes:
I started thinking about how old I was when I received this cookbook nearly 30 years ago and how R is almost the same age. I thought about how much my cooking has evolved over the years and how any start with cooking is a good start to give your children. Most of all I thought about how much I loved thumbing through a cookbook and choosing a recipe to create.
So with this in mind, I recently took the boys to the library and let them choose any cookbook they thought looked neat. We took the cookbook home and let them choose a recipe—any recipe—to cook. Of course they both chose dessert, but the idea of giving them the autonomy to decide helps build their own confidence in the kitchen.
As R and G grow, I truly hope they will love to cook and create in the kitchen. With each step forward and each new skill gleaned, hopefully I’ll have to aspiring chefs in no time.
Life is sweet,
SPC