I have a love/hate relationship with cooking. I LOVE eating, I love cooking for people and entertaining. I hate cooking for myself. Cooking for one is a pain, it takes too much time, you never buy the right amount of groceries, and all that damn cleanup takes forever.
Cooking for other people though, that is a good time. Feeling inspired, making a nice meal, and gathering a small group of close friends for dinner and drinks sounds like a great Sunday night to me.
Cooking also serves as a creative outlet, which a guy like me needs. Now that I live in LA, finding a workshop has been pretty difficult. Spaces are few and far between and expensive. So my other hobbies have to be put on the back burner, so to speak, for a while till I can get situated.
I have much respect for all my friends who are chefs and do it for a living. True artists they are. Not only do they make food that is delicious, they also make it look so good. The plating is the most difficult part I find. Also they are always so motivated, constantly improving their craft, learning new techniques and using new ingredients, trying new dishes, it is quite inspiring.
I first realized that I liked to cook when I was quite young. We had an assignment in class, must have been the 1st or 2nd grade, were we had to make a cookbook for our grandmother. I put together a pile of milkshake recipes. I know what you’re thinking, how many milkshake recipes can there be? Enough to get an A in 1st grade, so at least like 5. I ofcourse tested out all the recipes myself, needless to say they all had my stamp of approval.
A few years later, in 8th grade, our teacher asked us to make a 5 – 10 – 15 year plan. Up till that point I had never really thought about my future and I didn’t take this assignment to seriously. So I wrote something down about becoming a chef, because that seemed like an interesting answer to the assignment. The thing is, my mom also worked at my school and my teacher shared my answers with her. She told my family and then my simple answer to an in class assignment somehow morphed into my destiny in the eyes of my family. I spent years dispelling that myth.
Each group of people I’ve worked with has their own set of lingo. Carpenters work in eighths of an inch, bakers work in grams, painters work in gallons, and chefs work in pinches and handfuls. Cooking is more of an art than a science. You have to taste and smell the food as you make it. You have to use your senses to create tasty dishes instead of relying on measurements. This is why I can never be a great chef, my palate is not nearly refined enough. However I can get good enough to make a Sunday Brunch enjoyable and that is good enough for me.
Speaking of Brunch, Benedicts are one of my favorite dishes to make. So many variations you can make and all so tasty. Mostly I love hollandaise sauce and everything it covers. Hollandaise on steak and eggs, crab cakes, potato hash, eggs, anything really. Put in on a salad, I don’t care. Add in a Bloody Maria or a Mimosa and you have yourself a grand ol time.
There is something so satisfying about making a nice meal, even if it’s for one. A satisfying salad with mozz and basil seeds or a nice fat burger with chipotle aioli and truffle fries. Plus you feel like such a responsible adult after cooking yourself a meal. Plus you end up saving money which is also nice.
Learning to cook is actually pretty easy, not at a chefs level but as a home cook. Find something that inspires you, buy the ingredients, and get cracking. Mess it up a few times, mistakes are how you learn. I’ve made some terrible dishes, some so bad I had to throw it all away. I’ve accidentally used salt instead of sugar or poured almost an entire bottle of cayenne into a dish and tried to save it. You gotta know when to scratch a dish and start over. Anyways, pick up a frying pan and saute some onions, the smell always makes people think that you are making something delicious.
Now we’re cooking with gas… I have a love/hate relationship with cooking. I LOVE eating, I love cooking for people and entertaining.










