I have been extremely busy as of late. We had friends over for the Superbowl and had to cook enough food to satisfy all my tastes for game day. Taylor and I made homemade potato skins, little weenies and meatballs, seven layer dip, buffalo drummies (Meijer failed to have any wings), and confetti cake with chocolate icing. I spent most of the morning cleaning, and of course we had to go shopping for our supplies last-minute. It was the only time that Taylor and I were together to finally decide on the many types of food we craved for football mania. I hate to admit that I was not impressed with the half time show, but many people were either overjoyed or just as disappointed as I with the performance.

Taylor announced at Meijer his craving. He informed me that he has been craving homemade pizza ever since we failed to make baking soda pizza dough. The pizza tonight was amazing. I made sure to buy yeast! He helped me to remember how much I love cooking. Now, I am not the type that is afraid to get dirty. I am the exact opposite. I love being able to throw myself into cooking in a way that makes me love getting elbow deep in food. Kneading the dough gave me a feeling I haven’t had in a long time. I’m not sure whether it can be considered peace, but it  makes me feel connected. It’s a feeling of complete joy that I cannot accurately describe. It is the one time that I can let all my reservations go to the side to just throw myself into a task without caring if I fail. At work, I am extremely organized. If something is the least bit out-of-place, I will make sure that it goes where it needs to. A clean working environment equals a more productive day!

In my family, you have to be able to cook. My dad has always told me, “you don’t know someone CAN’T cook until you’ve actually tasted someone’s food that CAN cook.” This is summarization of course. Well, having grown up with two parents that can, without a doubt, cook, it has made me extremely picky. I definitely know right off the bat who can’t cook! Don’t get me wrong, I love food. But, I am picky maybe even to an extreme. Also, I know that many people (even those who can’t/don’t really cook) have their one signature dish. This is the dish that is cooked every time you come over, because it is the dish they have mastered.

When I have flour in my hair and all the ingredients come together, I feel more connected. Connected to the generations of cooks that love this feeling as much as I. More connected to my family, my friends, to the world. I am not claiming to be an amazing chef; I am simply exploring the world of cooking and learning from my failures. I AM enjoying my adventure in the world of cooking and attempting to grasp onto that feeling of pure joy: bliss. It is that spark inside me that makes me smile even if I look like a complete mess. That feeling, it makes me feel like I am home.

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