Alright, it’s late and I was going to forget about blogging for today and save this post for another time, BUT…Matthew convinced me that I couldn’t let my blogging streak end.
So, I was thinking this morning about food (of course) and realized just how long I’ve been interested in cooking in baking.
One of my earliest memories is playing on the floor in my bedroom with plastic food, pots, and pans (and even a toy register!), and pretending I had my own cooking show with a captive imaginary audience. Then I realized the first books I ever had were all cook books, and just for fun I thought I’d list my first five I ever had.
I remember reading this one and LOVING the big pictures, food decorations, and mini pizzas. It made me feel like a little chef that could make anything I wanted.
My parents bought this book for me and my sister the first time they left us with family and went on a trip without us. I remember being small and heartbroken and dealing with my semi-depression by sitting on my grandmothers couch with a packet of pop tarts and a 24/7 marathon of Fiddler on the Roof (seriously – all day , every day, for a week). When I got this cookbook I remember finding the recipe for Disgustingly Rich Brownies and finding comfort in the though of baking them for my parents when they returned from their trip.
This is when I really started getting into the kitchen. I’ve tried a handful of these recipes but our family favorite is still Baked Apple Pancake (although the Baked Donut Nuggets are a close second).
I found this in a little country shop on a family vacation in the mountains of the Carolinas (or was in Virginia?). I bought it soley for the fact that it would be my very own cookbook that I bought myself. I have never once made a single thing listed on its pages.
Given to me by my Gram. Love love LOVED it. I still remember whipping up it’s recipe for lemonade, making my family meatballs and spaghetti for dinner, and cooking my very first meat loaf with one of my neighborhood friends. Oh how we hated yet relished squishing the meat, eggs, spices and breadcrumbs together with our bare hands. Our fingers turned into icicles but it was worth it in the end.
How ’bout you readers. Do you have any favorite food-related childhood memories?