First Meal

I remember making the first meal to myself when at the age of seven. My brother would get tired of me asking him to make me something to eat, mainly because my mom always worked second shift, and my sister wouldn't do it herself. Not saying that she had to, but he was on a lot of other things that said he couldn't do this with me.

So, he showed me how to heat up a hot dog. Throw it in the microwave for a sec and it's done. Pretty simple stuff there. Then after that, I had a creative craving, which was very ripe at that time. With my little mind, there would be so much ideas that just came to be fruitful, even if it was a failure. because of curiosity, I made it a mission to try at least one thing to another that usually would be seen as a common concoction.

Like water and cereal; a burger and hot wings; strawberry soda and chocolate syrup.

That last one was gross. Don't do it.

After all of that, I got better at figuring out food and how they would compress into something better than they were originally, from ingredient to dish. My failures became future opportunities. Soon, I'd take on even bigger challenges that took more resources, like making fried fish from scratch with my sister. And my goodness, that was the worst thing we did. There was still some bone and scales in it that we thought we took off.

Through it all in the trash. I bet even starving people wouldn't even eat it. We tried and failed, but from this I learned of properly preparing for dishes, even if it takes time.

That said, I love to cook now. I make lemon peppered baked chicken with broccoli in a pan, curry mix with Tabasco, original flapjacks from scratch, you name it. It's the satisfaction that I have afterward of completing something I really want, and for others to enjoy, thanks to my brother and my sister.

Even if she didn't help me when I was younger.