Today marks the anniversary of what I talked about in Day 3. I had already mentioned it before but I'm no longer in Japan. Still, when you here a little creak or it feels like something shaking everyone I know freaks out and thinks its an earthquake. I know sometimes when I feel the ground rumbling my heart starts to quicken but it takes me a minute to finally breathe again and remember I'm no longer there. My family is still in Japan however, they'll be there for a bit longer.
Being in Denver though, it's not to bad. A couple of weeks ago we had a horrible wind storm, not that scared me like none other. I was surprised I was able to sleep with all the noise. Other then that, nothing really bad happens here which is a great switch off especially when Japan still gets some bad earthquakes. Plus its a good place to start anew and get a good job in my career field.
The school year is almost coming to an end. It's been so long since I first started. It was some time in September I think, when I first came to this school. Now I'm so close. When summer comes I'm moving to Utah to stay with my mother and possibly brother who will be there. My father will stay in Japan though, he has a job there that's not part of the military so my mom doesn't get SOFA status to stay there with him. Sometimes I get lonely without them. Most of the time I just wished my brother was around so we could hang out and play games together, back in Japan most of my days were spent in his room sitting on his floor.
My birthday is coming up again soon. There was still some earthquakes when I celebrated it, but it was fun. Celebrating my mom's birthday during that turmoil was even worse because it was closer to today. I'm not sure what I'm going to get for my birthday, maybe some pots and pans or a plastic spatula. Being in school we get our own knife kit but nothing else, and sometimes it feels good to cook your own food outside of class to demonstrate what you've learned with everyone else. Plus I still have two pork chops sitting in my fridge.
I put up a sign on my dorm room door about the tsunami. I don't know if anyone read it and actually took a moment of silence at the appointed time. Although its not the exact time it hit in Japan but it would be if we all had the same time zones. I played the same song that I had played at 2:45pm and then turned it off a minute later. I sat on my chair with my knees drawn to my chest and listened to the ticking from my watch. I don't remember what time it stopped. After dropping the music all time was forgotten to me, I just remember the time it started, when all electronic clocks stopped at 2:46pm. I think I remember finding a clock in my room stuck on that time. It felt the same as when the atomic bomb dropped, all the watches had stopped on that time, and I actually think the time was close to then. Its a habit just like when the twin towers got hit it was also the 11th day in September. It's like some divine power decided to make everything bad happen on the 11th day in a month, instead of the 6th like everyone's so afraid of.
Convenient bastard.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Day 5
This whole thing of me putting down days for each time I post makes no sense anymore. Mostly because the last time I posted on this blog was probably a few months ago. Lately though a lot of people in Washington have been getting their hands on this blog thanks to my grandma and one of my posts. What they keep saying really inspires me to keep going. Especially with what has been going on with me recently since the last time I posted on this blog.
I'll make it simple.
Right now, I am typing via my computer on a desk situated in a small room which I share with an awesome roommate in a place known as Wales Residence Hall in this awesome place called Johnson & Wales University. That's right, I finally got here and moved into my dorm room. I also already got my knife set and everything. I'm so pumped for when my culinary labs start, right now I'm scheduled for academics so I'll have a pretty lenient schedule.
There was a couple of hour long orientation for the Culinary Arts majors. During that time a awesome person named Chef Dawson told us all about what was headed for us. He kept mentioning that he suffered from ADHD but despite everything; the things he said made me lift off my chair and pay attention. He said that being here and being a chef made us Culinary gods. You won't believe what is to hear that man speak. Though it was kind of corny but he was right. In a way we were gods to people because we put the greatest food in front of people for them to eat.
While he was talking I opened up my knife kit and just marveled at the pristine knives that were mine, and I was going to cook and cut food with those knives. I treated them as I would a brand new book (save for the fact I did not smell them). They were my tools, an extension of my hands that were going to mold food in front of me into something beautiful. It may sound a little strange but those knives and the chefs that will be teaching me at this university will make me into a Chef. When that day comes, this blog will no longer be called Diary of a Cook. It will be the Diary of a Chef.
It has a nice ring to it. Doesn't it?
I'll make it simple.
Right now, I am typing via my computer on a desk situated in a small room which I share with an awesome roommate in a place known as Wales Residence Hall in this awesome place called Johnson & Wales University. That's right, I finally got here and moved into my dorm room. I also already got my knife set and everything. I'm so pumped for when my culinary labs start, right now I'm scheduled for academics so I'll have a pretty lenient schedule.
There was a couple of hour long orientation for the Culinary Arts majors. During that time a awesome person named Chef Dawson told us all about what was headed for us. He kept mentioning that he suffered from ADHD but despite everything; the things he said made me lift off my chair and pay attention. He said that being here and being a chef made us Culinary gods. You won't believe what is to hear that man speak. Though it was kind of corny but he was right. In a way we were gods to people because we put the greatest food in front of people for them to eat.
While he was talking I opened up my knife kit and just marveled at the pristine knives that were mine, and I was going to cook and cut food with those knives. I treated them as I would a brand new book (save for the fact I did not smell them). They were my tools, an extension of my hands that were going to mold food in front of me into something beautiful. It may sound a little strange but those knives and the chefs that will be teaching me at this university will make me into a Chef. When that day comes, this blog will no longer be called Diary of a Cook. It will be the Diary of a Chef.
It has a nice ring to it. Doesn't it?
Friday, March 18, 2011
Day 4
The times you feel like cooking seems to always be the times you can't. There's been a need for energy conservation here so of course, no oven or stove top; they drain the most. Now I have a constant urge to make pizza, Wookie cookies, Hollandaise sauce, and plenty of other things I can't do. Really puts a damper on things. Things since the earthquake has been going smooth; except for an occasional tremor, seems we've gone a whole day without one though which is a great accomplishment I think. Still; every creak I hear from the ceilings I still freak out and glance around the room to see if anything that's dangling is shaking.
Some people may be evacuating, there's only a voluntary leave for people. I won't be, I love this place too much to leave it and I think we'll last; we always have after all. Our community is based on everyone, even my mom reaches a hand to deployed spouses when she isn't even a key spouse anymore. Now that's commitment to a job you don't get credit for anymore.
The earthquakes are starting to blend into one another; every time there's a shake we get a reading of about 6 or so and have to stare in awe for a moment and realizing we've become immune to earthquakes now. Ever since Friday all the later ones just seem like a butter knife to a cleaver. Perhaps that isn't the best metaphor but it is the Diary of a Cook. School will be up and running on Monday though, I don't want to complain, but I am not looking forward to it. Now that the cold I inherited had finally started to fade I was looking forward to heading to the chow hall to help out the people there. Since the quake they began serving food to the residents on the base; which is helpful when there's so many people who don't have the advantage of 20 tons of camping gear.
Despite the time during the blackout, I swear my mother made the best food in a cast-iron skillet on the grill outside. I wouldn't mind flipping the circuit breaker just to have her cook some more food like that. Another good part is sitting around eating MREs but my parents think I'm crazy. What can I say? It's a meal ready in just a few minutes. Yes it isn't the best food in the world but when you're hungry you're hungry, and the cute little Tabasco bottle with it is to die for.
Day 4 can't compare to the previous day. I get constant comments from my mother about how wonderful it was and how they've spread it out. I'll tell you ahead of time, that can only happen late at night from sleep deprivation, I wouldn't suggest trying it yourself though. Other then this I have something else going that I started a long time ago on Facebook. I titled it Diary of a Believer. No, it's not like this diary where I tell my day to day things. Well not exactly day to day things, but you get the point. I named it that because it's a book based on the most important events in a person, the Believer's, life. It goes from birth, all the way to well, death. The name Believer I thought of because of the end chapter I already have written out but won't show to anyone until I reach that point; if I ever do because I'm such a procrastinator. Who isn't now days?
Some people may be evacuating, there's only a voluntary leave for people. I won't be, I love this place too much to leave it and I think we'll last; we always have after all. Our community is based on everyone, even my mom reaches a hand to deployed spouses when she isn't even a key spouse anymore. Now that's commitment to a job you don't get credit for anymore.
The earthquakes are starting to blend into one another; every time there's a shake we get a reading of about 6 or so and have to stare in awe for a moment and realizing we've become immune to earthquakes now. Ever since Friday all the later ones just seem like a butter knife to a cleaver. Perhaps that isn't the best metaphor but it is the Diary of a Cook. School will be up and running on Monday though, I don't want to complain, but I am not looking forward to it. Now that the cold I inherited had finally started to fade I was looking forward to heading to the chow hall to help out the people there. Since the quake they began serving food to the residents on the base; which is helpful when there's so many people who don't have the advantage of 20 tons of camping gear.
Despite the time during the blackout, I swear my mother made the best food in a cast-iron skillet on the grill outside. I wouldn't mind flipping the circuit breaker just to have her cook some more food like that. Another good part is sitting around eating MREs but my parents think I'm crazy. What can I say? It's a meal ready in just a few minutes. Yes it isn't the best food in the world but when you're hungry you're hungry, and the cute little Tabasco bottle with it is to die for.
Day 4 can't compare to the previous day. I get constant comments from my mother about how wonderful it was and how they've spread it out. I'll tell you ahead of time, that can only happen late at night from sleep deprivation, I wouldn't suggest trying it yourself though. Other then this I have something else going that I started a long time ago on Facebook. I titled it Diary of a Believer. No, it's not like this diary where I tell my day to day things. Well not exactly day to day things, but you get the point. I named it that because it's a book based on the most important events in a person, the Believer's, life. It goes from birth, all the way to well, death. The name Believer I thought of because of the end chapter I already have written out but won't show to anyone until I reach that point; if I ever do because I'm such a procrastinator. Who isn't now days?
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Day 3
Sometimes the most exciting, and the most terrible things can happen in a small matter's time. Every Friday when there's a school day I play music over the PA in the school; welcoming in the weekend. The morning began with the pokemon theme song... and the day ended with an incomplete song by Maroon 5.
I remember the shaking.
I remember the smile on my face.
I remember the drain of life on everyone as the doors began to rattle.
I remember me switching off the music and screaming over the PA to get outside or under a desk.
I remember dropping the mike and diving for the nearest desk next to a teetering TV bolted against the wall. The principal screaming my words over the dead PA system that switched off with the power. Her running to a support against the wall; and my eyes locked on the swinging dead mike against the sound board of the PA. My heart stopped with the trembling earth.
Adrenalin hit me and I rushed to my bag next to the entrance; fumbling for a cell phone I knew wouldn't go through. I tried anyways. Nothing. I ran for the door, exiting the building to a slew of high school kids wondering around, lost about what to do. I went for my car; churning the dying engine to life and screeching out of the parking spot with horrible brakes. Screaming to bystanders to get out of the way, and me peeling down the road home. On my way the adrenalin faded... it almost felt like everything was fine, that the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach was all a game.
I arrived home to see my brother alive, him reassuring me mom and dad were okay as well. His room in tatters, mine just dandy with a half open closet. All was good. Until the aftershock hit, shaking me practically from my feet and both of us running for a door frame. Mom came home shortly after; breathing heavily telling us to go outside. She said she was going upstairs, to the 9th floor where other families live, no doubt suffering even more from the trembles. I went with, running up the stairs to reach a family. Mom helped the children down while I continued upwards; barely reaching the 8th floor as another aftershock hit me and made me stumble and grasp the door handle; pulling it ajar and crawling out of the staircase into the halls of apartments. A name plate on a door; I crawled for it to open it to a mother and baby in only a diaper.
Everyone was downstairs, all families gone from the building and resting in their cars; leaning to the radio for comfort.
8.9 earthquake. Two days prior had been a 7.2... today was even worse. Things eventually settled and we returned to our homes to fine broken things, no power, no heat, no connection to the outside world, but we had each other.
Even now the aftershocks still shake the building; reminding us what happened on Friday March 11, 2011. A earthquake that shook northern Japan like none other. A boat ended up in the middle of a city just a few minutes drive from where we were; the most devastated city just a few hours drive. We had survived; as much as we knew from Japanese folks.. only a few residents of the town had perished along the coast. Even now people are terrified of it happening again as the aftershocks remind us. Even my family did as much as they could just in case the power went out again. Turning on the heaters to full blast to warm the tomb of a house. We were alive though... and that's all that mattered.
I remember the shaking.
I remember the smile on my face.
I remember the drain of life on everyone as the doors began to rattle.
I remember me switching off the music and screaming over the PA to get outside or under a desk.
I remember dropping the mike and diving for the nearest desk next to a teetering TV bolted against the wall. The principal screaming my words over the dead PA system that switched off with the power. Her running to a support against the wall; and my eyes locked on the swinging dead mike against the sound board of the PA. My heart stopped with the trembling earth.
Adrenalin hit me and I rushed to my bag next to the entrance; fumbling for a cell phone I knew wouldn't go through. I tried anyways. Nothing. I ran for the door, exiting the building to a slew of high school kids wondering around, lost about what to do. I went for my car; churning the dying engine to life and screeching out of the parking spot with horrible brakes. Screaming to bystanders to get out of the way, and me peeling down the road home. On my way the adrenalin faded... it almost felt like everything was fine, that the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach was all a game.
I arrived home to see my brother alive, him reassuring me mom and dad were okay as well. His room in tatters, mine just dandy with a half open closet. All was good. Until the aftershock hit, shaking me practically from my feet and both of us running for a door frame. Mom came home shortly after; breathing heavily telling us to go outside. She said she was going upstairs, to the 9th floor where other families live, no doubt suffering even more from the trembles. I went with, running up the stairs to reach a family. Mom helped the children down while I continued upwards; barely reaching the 8th floor as another aftershock hit me and made me stumble and grasp the door handle; pulling it ajar and crawling out of the staircase into the halls of apartments. A name plate on a door; I crawled for it to open it to a mother and baby in only a diaper.
Everyone was downstairs, all families gone from the building and resting in their cars; leaning to the radio for comfort.
8.9 earthquake. Two days prior had been a 7.2... today was even worse. Things eventually settled and we returned to our homes to fine broken things, no power, no heat, no connection to the outside world, but we had each other.
Even now the aftershocks still shake the building; reminding us what happened on Friday March 11, 2011. A earthquake that shook northern Japan like none other. A boat ended up in the middle of a city just a few minutes drive from where we were; the most devastated city just a few hours drive. We had survived; as much as we knew from Japanese folks.. only a few residents of the town had perished along the coast. Even now people are terrified of it happening again as the aftershocks remind us. Even my family did as much as they could just in case the power went out again. Turning on the heaters to full blast to warm the tomb of a house. We were alive though... and that's all that mattered.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Day 2
Well things have been going good. All last week I was skipping classes to help out with a Volleyball tournament. All day I was rushing around cooking food for the coaches and staff in charge of the tournament. It was fun and satisfying when they personally came up to us and thanked us for the meal. Real official. We had a salad bar set up and hot plates to serve lunch. We didn't serve a dinner but we did serve a dessert. My culinary arts teacher stuck to making some of the desserts like bread pudding or banana pudding. There were only two other people working with me and they we're working on becoming pastry chefs while I was the odd one out for being a chef in everything. I stuck to the main meals in lunch like chili, curry, Spanish rice, and all the side dishes. I steamed vegetables and things all the while arguing with my teacher because she's a picky eater and demanded things to be made her way. I had to intervene with the help of the two other cooks because some people actually like to eat the stalk of a broccoli.
Been pretty interesting all in all. After that hectic week I returned to my regular school day and continued to go and volunteer at the Chow Hall (don't tell anyone I called it that). Still, its a place you chow down and... I'm not sure about the 'hall' part. Anyways, it was good to be back helping out there although most of the time I have nothing to do and just talk with the Japanese contractors there. Not too shabby.
Returned to culinary class after that and heard the news that we're going to a field trip on Thursday to a fish market. Never been to one but can't wait. The smell of fish and seeing them dead isn't quite my thing but food is so I'm looking forward to it. I'm sure I'll be able to stomach it.
Still no reply from my college of choice on if I've been accepted or not so my heart keeps pounding when I check my emails. Joy. Still no ACT scores either, jebus. Time is flying by and still no answer from either; I tend to be patient with things but when its something this important to gotta be just sweating every day wondering if its in or not!! And it's not.
Other things are well; personal wise of course this a diary of a cook so I probably won't go rambling over there. I keep in contact with friends and stuff and have been talking on skype like crazy only to make my heart beat even faster; but that's a secret too don't tell anyone. That's only a little hint to how I've been doing there but that's all I'm going to say today, and for me that's November 16, 2010. Phew time flies. So, STILL WORKING HARD!
Been pretty interesting all in all. After that hectic week I returned to my regular school day and continued to go and volunteer at the Chow Hall (don't tell anyone I called it that). Still, its a place you chow down and... I'm not sure about the 'hall' part. Anyways, it was good to be back helping out there although most of the time I have nothing to do and just talk with the Japanese contractors there. Not too shabby.
Returned to culinary class after that and heard the news that we're going to a field trip on Thursday to a fish market. Never been to one but can't wait. The smell of fish and seeing them dead isn't quite my thing but food is so I'm looking forward to it. I'm sure I'll be able to stomach it.
Still no reply from my college of choice on if I've been accepted or not so my heart keeps pounding when I check my emails. Joy. Still no ACT scores either, jebus. Time is flying by and still no answer from either; I tend to be patient with things but when its something this important to gotta be just sweating every day wondering if its in or not!! And it's not.
Other things are well; personal wise of course this a diary of a cook so I probably won't go rambling over there. I keep in contact with friends and stuff and have been talking on skype like crazy only to make my heart beat even faster; but that's a secret too don't tell anyone. That's only a little hint to how I've been doing there but that's all I'm going to say today, and for me that's November 16, 2010. Phew time flies. So, STILL WORKING HARD!
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Day 1
A blog.
If you must know, I just finished watching the movie 'Julie and Julia' and was inspired. Who isn't by such a wonderful movie? It's heartfelt and gives you the idea of starting your own blog. Unfortunately, mine is about cooking as well but I can never compare to write something as good as Julie Powell. I won't do anything like go through all the recipes of a cookbook or anything... I'll never have the resources or the commitment to do that. Well, perhaps the commitment but definitely not the resources. You may be wondering what I mean.
First, you must know where I live. I live in little unknown Misawa, Japan. Now you're wondering how I'm able to do this in English; because you're probably thinking I'm Japanese. Unfortunately, I am not. Although I do know how to read Japanese, sit down like them, slurp soup like they do, and generally act like Japanese folk; I am not, which is partially my greatest regret. Not saying I hate being American. My father is part of the military and from such we are stationed here in Japan. It's a really nice co-military base.The word co-military base probably isn't a word but I just made it one. You see, there's different branches of the military... we have all of them here in this small base. Not many Marines but we do have them, its more Air Force based than anything else but we have everything. Not sure why Navy is here... we only have a lake nearby.
As I was saying, this is where I live. I love it here. I've been here the majority of my life and hardly know anything about the states. People always cast me weird looks when I ask them what Jack in the Box is or what's Sam's Club. Honestly, I don't know until they tell me or I google it later. Even with my little experience in the states... I consider myself a very patriotic American. Who isn't who lives over here? We live on base, our paycheck coming in from the government, our housing, electricity, food, and essentially games all are paid by the government. We practically live and breathe what made America.. so then shouldn't we be considered the most patriotic people in America? I've gotten to travel around the world thanks to the military moving us about. It can be a hassle at times but, I love it.
Now you're wondering why this isn't called 'Diary of a Military Brat', I'll tell you why. I love to cook. I don't do it because its the only thing you can come home to and actually know. Honestly, I don't really know how to cook, sure my mom has taught me a few recipes and things that her family have done over the years... I just honestly don't. Now why would I say its the diary of a cook? Well, because I want to be. Cooking for me... is a creative thing. Did I mention I'm also a writer on the side? Not that I've actually published anything. Like writing, cooking you can take a person's creativeness and put it on a plate; much like putting it on paper with a pencil in writing. You can write a book with a pencil and paper... and then with cooking, you can write a creative vast adventure novel, with a tidbit of romance, in a meal that you serve to you're loved one. That's what I do. I cook.
I am 17 years old, a woman, military brat, cook, writer, and good friend to a great many people. In the beginning it always... become a writer, publish a novel and have everyone love it! That's still my dream, that's still on the track, yet now there's a new addition. Becoming a cook. I found out I wanted to do it last year... during my Junior year in high school. After, of course, watching the Disney movie 'Ratatouille'. Movies can be a great inspiration to people. Some mores so then others.
Some would think such great inspiration from a movie would eventually fade. Not me, I'm dead set on becoming a cook; and not just because of the movie but because. People eat. Not everyone reads and actually enjoy it, trust me. Everyone eats... even those people on diets, they eat and enjoy what they eat when they do. Sometimes people go all out and eat all sorts of stuff. That's the main point of cooking. Cooking, definition; making a meal with food in which people will enjoy. That's my own translation of course. That's what I'm aiming to do; please people by cooking. Some people cook just for themselves; I do as well. Not all the time though, because when you make something... its traditoinally supposed to be shared with friends and family. So that's what I do.
Every weekend I go to the commissary (the military's version of a grocery store) and find anything. Chicken? Sure! Throw it right in the shopping cart! Potatoes? Sure! Let's make a stew. Usually it starts off like that, I see a vegetable and decide to grab it and slowly peice together something my family will enjoy. I don't have a big family so i have a pretty small audience to feed. So far so good though. It starts off simple, then it evolves.
Beef stew, Beef Yakisoba, breaded pork, fried chicken with mushrooms, fish and chips, and then some real good BBQ chicken pizza. After that I started to get deeper; stretching out my resources. Cheese souffle, chicken curry, cheddar cheese soup, vanilla hard candies, chocolate souffle, shrimp spaghetti, home made Alfredo sauce on top of tortellini, and tortilla chips baked in an artichoke hearts dip. All sorts of different things. I'm slowly learning, and still wanting to learn more. It's Monday, November 8, 2010 here, and I'm destined to go to culinary school where many other people will enjoy my foods. I'm aiming to succeed in it, writing on the side. I may be only 17; but I'm working hard... and not hardly working. Wish me luck!
If you must know, I just finished watching the movie 'Julie and Julia' and was inspired. Who isn't by such a wonderful movie? It's heartfelt and gives you the idea of starting your own blog. Unfortunately, mine is about cooking as well but I can never compare to write something as good as Julie Powell. I won't do anything like go through all the recipes of a cookbook or anything... I'll never have the resources or the commitment to do that. Well, perhaps the commitment but definitely not the resources. You may be wondering what I mean.
First, you must know where I live. I live in little unknown Misawa, Japan. Now you're wondering how I'm able to do this in English; because you're probably thinking I'm Japanese. Unfortunately, I am not. Although I do know how to read Japanese, sit down like them, slurp soup like they do, and generally act like Japanese folk; I am not, which is partially my greatest regret. Not saying I hate being American. My father is part of the military and from such we are stationed here in Japan. It's a really nice co-military base.The word co-military base probably isn't a word but I just made it one. You see, there's different branches of the military... we have all of them here in this small base. Not many Marines but we do have them, its more Air Force based than anything else but we have everything. Not sure why Navy is here... we only have a lake nearby.
As I was saying, this is where I live. I love it here. I've been here the majority of my life and hardly know anything about the states. People always cast me weird looks when I ask them what Jack in the Box is or what's Sam's Club. Honestly, I don't know until they tell me or I google it later. Even with my little experience in the states... I consider myself a very patriotic American. Who isn't who lives over here? We live on base, our paycheck coming in from the government, our housing, electricity, food, and essentially games all are paid by the government. We practically live and breathe what made America.. so then shouldn't we be considered the most patriotic people in America? I've gotten to travel around the world thanks to the military moving us about. It can be a hassle at times but, I love it.
Now you're wondering why this isn't called 'Diary of a Military Brat', I'll tell you why. I love to cook. I don't do it because its the only thing you can come home to and actually know. Honestly, I don't really know how to cook, sure my mom has taught me a few recipes and things that her family have done over the years... I just honestly don't. Now why would I say its the diary of a cook? Well, because I want to be. Cooking for me... is a creative thing. Did I mention I'm also a writer on the side? Not that I've actually published anything. Like writing, cooking you can take a person's creativeness and put it on a plate; much like putting it on paper with a pencil in writing. You can write a book with a pencil and paper... and then with cooking, you can write a creative vast adventure novel, with a tidbit of romance, in a meal that you serve to you're loved one. That's what I do. I cook.
I am 17 years old, a woman, military brat, cook, writer, and good friend to a great many people. In the beginning it always... become a writer, publish a novel and have everyone love it! That's still my dream, that's still on the track, yet now there's a new addition. Becoming a cook. I found out I wanted to do it last year... during my Junior year in high school. After, of course, watching the Disney movie 'Ratatouille'. Movies can be a great inspiration to people. Some mores so then others.
Some would think such great inspiration from a movie would eventually fade. Not me, I'm dead set on becoming a cook; and not just because of the movie but because. People eat. Not everyone reads and actually enjoy it, trust me. Everyone eats... even those people on diets, they eat and enjoy what they eat when they do. Sometimes people go all out and eat all sorts of stuff. That's the main point of cooking. Cooking, definition; making a meal with food in which people will enjoy. That's my own translation of course. That's what I'm aiming to do; please people by cooking. Some people cook just for themselves; I do as well. Not all the time though, because when you make something... its traditoinally supposed to be shared with friends and family. So that's what I do.
Every weekend I go to the commissary (the military's version of a grocery store) and find anything. Chicken? Sure! Throw it right in the shopping cart! Potatoes? Sure! Let's make a stew. Usually it starts off like that, I see a vegetable and decide to grab it and slowly peice together something my family will enjoy. I don't have a big family so i have a pretty small audience to feed. So far so good though. It starts off simple, then it evolves.
Beef stew, Beef Yakisoba, breaded pork, fried chicken with mushrooms, fish and chips, and then some real good BBQ chicken pizza. After that I started to get deeper; stretching out my resources. Cheese souffle, chicken curry, cheddar cheese soup, vanilla hard candies, chocolate souffle, shrimp spaghetti, home made Alfredo sauce on top of tortellini, and tortilla chips baked in an artichoke hearts dip. All sorts of different things. I'm slowly learning, and still wanting to learn more. It's Monday, November 8, 2010 here, and I'm destined to go to culinary school where many other people will enjoy my foods. I'm aiming to succeed in it, writing on the side. I may be only 17; but I'm working hard... and not hardly working. Wish me luck!
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