The secret’s out. I can’t cook.
How am I supposed to function as an independent adult if I don’t know how to cook?
As I’m entering my mid-20s, I can’t sweep all the unadult-like things I do under the rug anymore. And learning to cook is one of those transient touches towards a life of independence.
Ironically, it was a children’s book that ignited my desire to learn how to cook. As with most things in my life, I tend to draw inspiration from books, because they open my eyes up to all the impossibly possible things.
The secret cooking club, which is the name of this heartwarming little book, was one of those rare and lucky finds in the library.
What’s so special about this book is that it has heart. You feel it when the main character Scarlett, discovers a secret kitchen in her neighbour’s house, and teaches herself how to cook from a mysterious cookbook dedicated to someone nicknamed ‘the little cook.’
I’m trying to emulate the details and feelings in that book and bring it to my life.
Although I won’t be discovering a secret kitchen in my neighbour’s house anytime soon, I’ll have to work with discovering the inner sanctuary of my own kitchen.
And even though ingredients won’t magically appear everytime I turn to a recipe, that’s ok because I’ll just have to go to my local Countdown store and buy all the ingredients.
And even though there isn’t a special recipe book waiting for me in my kitchen dedicated to ‘the little cook’, I bought a special cookbook dedicated especially for my elementary level cooking skills. It’s called, The student cookbook.
I think that’s enough to tick off the checklist of similarities between the book and my secret or not-so-secret, one person cooking club.
I’m hopeful that as I teach myself how to cook, I’ll evoke the same magic and wonder that that book brought.