While I learned how to cook out of necessity in a tiny kitchen in Earl’s Court, London, watching my mom cook provided me with the foundation for feeding myself I’d take with me to school, and then later abroad.
Growing up, my mom was the cook. She cooked everything from beef macaroni to roast chicken to fill the bellies of her brood of six kids, and there was always salad. My favorite meal wasn’t dinner, though, it was tea time. So every once in a while, we’d come home from school, and we make cookies to serve with a pot of tea and practice pronouncing our best-sounding "ba-nan-nar."
Sometimes there were store-bought cookies, but whatever kind they were, my memories of my mother in the kitchen with us, teaching us to feed ourselves, remains with me wherever I go.