How I Went From Cooking Blah Food To Discovering My Love For Cooking

If You've Lost Your Confidence, Go Back To The Basics. 

This is me, right before Christmas one year. Someone in my close family just told me that my food was pretty blah, so they were not very excited to taste my Christmas dinner. And that they wanted to go out and eat a tastier meal served in a restaurant, if they had a choice. 

Wow, that hurt! Felt it right in my stomach. "What?" I tried to defend myself for a while... but then I had to admit the food I grew up on - cooked by my mother - was pretty blah, too. 


She didn't like to cook. And she was not shy about it. She told us every time she was cooking a meal. As a kid, I didn't understand what she meant and I was super hungry because I was a super active kid. We lived on the fourth floor of the apartment building and there were only stairs, no elevator. I just wanted to eat it. To describe my mom's cooking let me borrow one of her own phrases that makes me smile every time I hear a Hungarian say it. Her meals were "not too bad." 

On the other hand, my father loved to cook and loved to eat good food. But he rarely cooked because he, according to my mother, always made a big mess in our tiny kitchen and was not good at cleaning it up. So, when my dad tried to cook something different my mother would get into a big argument with him and he would just leave the kitchen halfway and retreat to his room. No good food would result from those conflicts. And conflicts were served daily.

By now you must have figured out that I grew up being a not so good cook. I admit I had not so good role models to encourage me to cook either. But still, honestly, the truth always hursts when it comes out. Or at least for 30 seconds, as they say, that's how long your feelings last. 

I understood the comment was not intended to hurt me. It was just an expression of a desire that was born from my inability to cook tasty meals. And looking at all the evidence - my childhood, my mother, my life path - I haven't yet put any effort into being different than my mother. Let alone being a better cook than her. I had to recognize that my basics were not there. I was faking it and was not going to make it. Ever. Not with the same mindset that I got from my mother. 

I recognized that I was at yet another decision point in my life where I couldn't ignore the growing evidence. And that comment pushed me into the pain I needed to feel to finally make the decision to live my life differently – e.g. by cooking differently. 

That winter as a Christmas gift I signed up for cooking classes. I went back to the basics. I learned things like how & when to salt your food, the basics about spices, how to chop with a knife, which knife is used for what, and so much more. It blew my mind! All this cool stuff was always available to me, and I chose to ignore it? I was kicking myself and I was proud of myself, too. It was so much fun to finally learn the basics of cooking. I felt excited. My confidence went up and, for the first time, I enjoyed the cooking process. Yes, there's a process and it starts before you even touch your knife. 

But why am I telling you all this?

Because last week a very talented woman said "I think I've lost my confidence. I think that's why I am not getting hired." 

Maybe you have lost your confidence, too. Or you were told something hurtful by someone, too. And now you are sitting in this pain and feeling stuck. Maybe you are blaming, defending, or letting others run your life for you. 

I want to tell you it doesn't have to stay like this. You can get unstuck and move through the pain, too. Just like I did. 

How? By going back to the basics. 

When did you learn that? Where? By whom? 
What do you remember about the learning process?
Were you paying attention or being distracted?
What beliefs did you learn? What processes, frameworks, or systems?
Were you happy during learning? Or did you dislike the teacher, the classmates, or the environment?

But most importantly, what story are you telling yourself regarding the source of your pain? 

I was telling myself I was a better cook than my mom and that I liked cooking. Neither was true, of course. So that story had to change. No wait, I chose to change it. Why change it, you might ask? It took a few days to get to the true answer. Not because I wanted to be applauded as a good cook. Nor because I wanted the enjoyment of good food. Growing up, we rarely ate together as a family. My mom was always angry while cooking. By the time the meal was ready she often served us kids and left the kitchen. I rarely saw her eating. Like she hid when it came to eating. And my dad? He was either still calming down after a fight with my mom, or he was still at work. So, my reason for learning to cook was to realize my dream: I wanted my family to eat together in peace. And eating good food would keep everyone coming back to the table with a smile. 

There's an answer in you, too. What is it? 


Choose to live life differently.


Thanks for listening,
Andrea