Food, the amalgamation of various different ingredients which coalasce to form something new and beautiful.
Food has been an integral part of my growing up. My grandmother was one of those pioneering home cooks , who made the most exotic foods long before this part of the world even knew of them. She was the epitome of grace and beauty and gentile. The perfect mother, the perfect wife and the perfect grandmother indeed.
The memories i have ! That glorious smell of her famous vanilla cake baking away in the oven when i came home from school. Her parties ! That table weighing down with her lavish spread. She shaped my mother and me soo much.
My mother , another amazing genius. She has the hand of king midas himself. Anything she tries her hand at is an instant piece of art. A surgeon, a life coach , a cook , a painter , a singer and now a crossfitter. An hour in the kitchen and she can have a lavish dinner for 15 people all plated up and complete with the most gorgeous and scrumptious desserts. Absolute sheer genius.
So the inspiration to cook had always been there. Growing up around women like these, food is but naturally ingrained in me.
The tartness and zing of lemon. The creamy lusciousness of melted chocolate. That dark mysterious caramelly gorgeousness of praline. The warm coziness of a custard. The smell of freshly baked apple pie. The wobble of jelly and pannacotta. The sheer volume of beaten egg whites for a nice fluffy omlette. The smell of freshly brewed cappuchino and that sound of a freshly baked crusty sourdough boule
It is the place where i can be myself