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My earliest memories are of cooking in Granga's
backyard making mud pies. As time passed, I
graduated to her kitchen where I could be found
under foot, watching what she was doing and how she prepared our family meals.
Part of her teaching process included quizzing me. She would ask,
"What do I put in this dish?,-What's next
"How do I do
My earliest memories are of cooking in Granga's
backyard making mud pies. As time passed, I
graduated to her kitchen where I could be found
under foot, watching what she was doing and how she prepared our family meals.
Part of her teaching process included quizzing me. She would ask,
"What do I put in this dish?,-What's next
"How do I do that ?".
It was not long before she promoted me to doing ' simple tasks for her, and by the time I was five years old. she trusted that I could make my own cinnamon toast. Could you imagine? I was so thrilled when she allowed me to help. Our cooking adventures would continue over the next five years with more questions, tastings and that sisterhood bond between women of all ages that is created in the family kitchen.
Fully prepared , I went to my mother's house where I surprised her with,
what she calls the most luxurious spaghetti she could imagine. It was a feast of bacon,
onions and tomato sauce with a little salt, pepper and chili powder that was served '
with pride. From these humble beginnings, my knowledge, skill and technique have b
increased through decades of feeding family and friends.
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