Cooking has been a big part in my family lives. My grandpa cooks, my father cooks. My grandfather cooked when my father would watch him from the kitchen table, as my father learned he would try to teach me how to cook. I wasn’t really interested. It didn’t quite catch my attention; all I wanted to do is play outside, like other kids my age. One day I saw my dad cutting onions and the way he would cut them. It was amazing how fast he was moving the knife and cutting the onion. It almost looked like a cartoon the way he was cutting the onions and all the other vegetables. The knife looked like if it had like a laser underneath the blade. How quickly he was cutting the onion and the other vegetable’s he was cutting, then there is where I told my dad, I wanted to learn how to cook.
Playing outside really didn’t matter to me anymore. All I wanted to do is to learn how to cook. My friends would come over and ask if I wanted to go play outside, but I would tell them that I was grounded. That was a lie, just so I can stay in inside to help my father and to learn more. That’s the way me and my dad bonded or father and son time. Finally after watching my dad how to cut and cook I got my chance to hold the knife.
I was about the age of ten when I wanted to learn how to cook. I was really young I really didn’t know how to read that quite well, but I was really eager to learn. I wasn’t like other ten year olds wanting to learn different things like painting, drawing, building sand castles, and video games. My main thing was to learn how to cook, that was my determination. My father loves my eagerness on wanting to learn new things.
The first step was that I had to watch him how to hold the knife and the onion so I wouldn’t cut my finger off. So he would say, but I was eager to do it on my own. Which cutting my finger I would tell myself that I wouldn’t cut my finger off. My dad was very cautious when it concerns holding sharp objects or never hot stoves.
I personally will admit it wasn’t easy to hold the knife, trying to hold the onion a certain way in order for the knife to slice through the onion faster. That was my first lesson. In, which it didn’t go that great, it wasn’t easy. The onion was rock solid when I tried to cut it in half. Now I see why my father mentioned he didn’t want me to cut my finger off. At the same time it looked so easy when my father was cutting the onion. It took me a couple of days to get it right.
Once I mastered the onion then I started doing cilantro and lettuce. Which was pretty easy, when it came to cutting lettuce or the cilantro, it really didn’t take much to cut it was quite. It didn’t take any special skill or way to slice. In my head I was thinking how come I didn’t start off cutting this first. Then when I got the courage to ask my father why I didn’t learn how to do this first, he replied by “You didn’t ask to do this first” which made senesce in a way or how he mentioned it.
The one I did have difficulty with is the tomatoes, since it’s really loose, you’d had to be careful how to hold it when you are cutting. The tomato was easy since it loses its firmness when you cut it in half. It starts to get really juicy and very messy. My father would try to explain to me on ways to hold the tomato so it wouldn’t be going all over the place. He also mentioned that cutting it one slice at a time isn’t the fastest way. We would sometimes go at it, because we would argue on the way I was doing it. In which in his terms I wasn’t doing it right. As I grew older, everything started to be much easier.
The next step was how to set the stove at the right temperatures, which pan to use, and what kind of cooking oil to use. My father always said, “The lower the temperature it’s at, the slower it will cook and the more taste you will get out of it.” Which I always told myself that, I would prepare a meal, cooking a meal is different from cutting vegetables. My father told me to add just a teaspoon of cooking oil. So the meat won’t stick to the pan, also make sure the flame isn’t high. So I wouldn’t burn myself with the cooking oil. Both side had to be evenly cooked, in order for the meat to be well done.
Once I grew older I began watching cooking shows so I can learn how to make, other types of food. I would get up early on the weekends not to go play outside but to turn on the television to catch the early morning cooking shows. The one channel I would always turn too was the Ricky Lake show. Not just to watch what she had to say, but to watch different chefs to come on. I was very eager to learn different styles, so I can show my father that I have improved my culinary skills.
My father would wake up sometimes early with me to watch the cooking shows. When he did I would ask a lot of questions to improve my skills even further. My father was really amazed on how I was really interested in cooking. He would also quiz me on some of the things we saw on the show to see if I was really paying attention.
This is an amazing experience. Something would run in my mind as I was growing up. Was concern what other kids would say if I knew how to cook. It was very different in my time of day. Everyone that was a male had to put up a certain image. It either had to be hard worker, geek, athletic, or a troublemaker.
Other kids would get pick on for being different and not in a certain group. That’s one thing that had me worried if kids from my school would find out if I knew how to cook. Kids that were males that took home economics in high school were picked on. That class was meant for girls only class, well in high school.
When some of my closes friends found out that I knew how to cook. My friends were totally cool with it. Other kids in school started to find out especially the upper class graduate. I was getting pick on, being called names that were very hurtful. Other classmates gave me support, while others just gave me crap. I would get push to the lockers, get things thrown at me, and get food thrown, told if it was cooked right.
Some people found it wrong for a male to cook in the kitchen, well as a being a chef. Men that were in to the cooking category, would get criticize heavily. I remember being in high school, I would be tease for saying that I wanted to learn how to cook. Others would encourage me to keep doing what I loved. Which cooking is what I loved, I didn’t do it just, because I thought it would make me more popular with the ladies. I did it, because I enjoyed doing it.
As the years have passed, now that I no longer attend high school. Many things have change, now I see more male chefs doing their own television shows. Some television networks have a channel base on nothing but cooking. Some of the best well known cooks are males. Males found behind the kitchen are more respected, than they were in the early 90’s.
I found myself real please that I stayed with the choice that I made when I was younger. Being a male that knows how to cook and prepare a meal, brings satisfaction. I’m proud that my father enjoyed teaching me how to cook, as much I enjoyed learning. I just hope one day that when my son gets older he will want to do the same. So the passing can go on forth as my father before his father was taught.
That is my story on why cooking has run in my family. It’s been passed down from many generations from my family. It’s more like a father on son bonding moment in my family. That’s how I learned how to cook, because it runs in our family’s genes or something. Knowing that I know how to cook my fiancé enjoys my cooking and is thankful for my knowledge.