Joseph S., Chaminade Julienne High School
The Magic of Cooking
It had been another one of those rare days where everybody seemed to be at each other’s throats. Mom went up to take a nap. Dad went out to go cool off. My siblings had each retired to their personal devices, as did I. However, I was the only one to have taken note of the time.
It was a quarter past six in the evening. Despite there being no plan for dinner, I knew everyone was starting to get hungry. After thinking for a few minutes, I felt as if I had to do something about it. No time was wasted finding the apron and cooking hat that my brother''s girlfriend had gifted to me. Once I was properly dressed, I descended down the stairs to work my magic.
I immediately stepped outside the realm of conflict, and into one of pure creativity. The kitchen was my canvas, one where I was to be the next DaVinci or Van Gogh. I grabbed pots, pans, and whatever other hardware I needed. It took less than an attosecond to decide what I was going to make. With a somewhat solid plan in mind, I started cooking lemon chicken.
I had no recipe at my disposal, but I didn’t need one. I followed my heart in what to put in the recipe. A couple sprigs of fresh basil to saute with garlic and butter. The chicken was coated in egg, buttermilk, flour, and enough spices to make Christopher Columbus think of my kitchen as the promised land. Even sweet brown sugar and a hint of savory cinnamon because I felt like it! Only my intuition and a few test pieces were used to ensure the chicken was cooked correctly.
Now the tough part arrived; serving my dish to my disgruntled family. I gathered my father, mother, and three siblings together. They were at least appreciative that I made dinner. Have you ever taken a walk out at dark and been simultaneously anxious of what is ahead, and curious to see what could go wrong? That was how I felt when I served the lemon chicken with sides of spaghetti and a hastily mixed salad. This feeling was not assisted by the knowledge that this was my first time creating the chicken recipe.
Nobody died at first, so that was a good sign. And then my eldest brother, who has a similar cooking practice to me, thought it was amazing. Surprisingly, everyone else agreed! Everyone ate to their satisfaction, and I had learned something about myself. I was great in both the kitchen and making people happy!
