It’s a kitchen. There are kids. It’s bound to be stressful, right? They spill things, get their hands dirty and rub them on the counters; they crack extra eggs into your bowl while your back is turned. They do, when your back. is. turned. Believe me.
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I definitely feel the stress when my kids enter the kitchen, but I am determined to have them in that space as much as possible.<\/strong> I have this theory that being involved in the cooking process leads to a well-rounded individual. From all those “tastes” you take, perhaps.<\/p>\n <\/br> <\/br>
\nBut really, I do think the exposure to the process of food and all that it is can be an important one in a child’s life.<\/strong> I remember when I was 12 going to my friend’s house for a school project. We were supposed to write a tutorial on how to make cookies. I strolled in thinking this was the easiest assignment in the world. I owned the cookie. Not only had I made countless batches of my mom’s chocolate chip cookies, I had dug through recipes and cookbooks and tried several on my own as well. Cookies were easy.<\/p>\n
\nNot for my friend. When the recipe called for brown sugar, I remember her face turning into that “Who farted?” look. You know the look. The crinkled nose. The raised eyebrow. The flat-line lips. That one. Her mom admitted while I was there to never having baked cookies with her. Ever. Not once. Twelve years with no freshly baked cookies, no licking of the spatula. Kind of sad, no?<\/p>\n