I have struggled to remember when my passion for food started, but as I try to gather my first culinary thoughts, I can’t remember a time where I didn’t absolutely love food. Although I did not have a very extensive pallet I pretty much ate everything my mother put in front of me. I do remember having some not so pleasant experiences in eating my vegetables, but which kid doesn’t.
My memories go far back to the day I used to live with my grandmother in Portugal and would help my mom making soup. (Ok, helping might not be the correct word; I used to eat the chouriço and raw carrots before they hit the pot) My mother always tried to get the best ingredients to feed me; I hear the story over and over again of mom going out to buy the freshest cherries because they were my favorite, no matter the price.
Despite the fact that I was exposed to great ingredients at a very young age, it was only when I was about 8 years old and living in Canada that I actually had my first experience in the kitchen and the funniest thing was that I baked before I even started cooking. I will never forget that Saturday morning where I went through my mom’s cookbooks and picked out a recipe for a chocolate cake. I carefully measured all the ingredients, heated up the oven, stirred and whipped and voilá, the best chocolate cake I have ever made. It was light and fluffy and huge! All done before my parents even woke up. Mom helped with the icing sugar!
Today, food, cooking and travelling are part of who I am and I can’t imagine my life without them.