About nine years ago, I left my mom’s house and started building my own family. I knew nothing back then other than keeping our small abode clean and tidy (because I grew up in a house wherein I see my mom would sweep the floor early in the morning and late at night everyday). Cooking is something I need to learn fast, and my mother’s cooking is the standard by which I measure all food.
Fast forward and we still live in a place my boys dubbed ‘the small house.’ To ensure my family’s well being and strong ties, I turn to cooking. And at this time that it is a rare gem to see a family eat together, all the more that I cook. Husband supports this and makes dinner time as well as our weekends’ meal time our family time.
I turn to my cooking as a force to keep my boys at home. And to do that, I first need to look at cooking not as a chore, but a pleasure. In the same manner that my kids need to see food as pleasure and not just mere fuel.