Teachers

First and foremost, the apparent professor of cooking would be the directions on the back of the box. Those step-by-step instructions were key to my mac n’ cheese success. The basic teachings of measurements and time could almost surpass those teachings from my elementary teachers. Bless those easy to follow instructions, without them I would have had dry, tough to chew macaroni and cheese dishes, and you can’t have that as a child. I’m your basic prodigy of mother/daughter cooking. There is no one more that I have learned from than my mom, obviously. It’s not like I had any interest in the matter of cooking, I was just there to prep, maybe cut the lettuce and serve the salad. If I felt like any cooking task is to be accomplished it would be the husking of corn and peeling of potatoes. So in that sense, being the sous chef of the Vesper kitchen has taught me the bare basics of cooking. 

But the teacher behind making something actually worth making, really making something that surprises yourself that it was you who cooked this semi-masterpiece, was my inherent need to improvise and cook in whimsical, almost careless manners. I see that an unexperienced cooker like me, should experiment with random shit not being used in the fridge. That was my real “teacher,” my curiosity to make something odd, yet delicious tasting at the sake of sacrificing the entire dish.