by Dandelion Doolittle

Created on: April 07, 2010   Last Updated: May 16, 2011

There is something about the aromatic smell of fresh bread baking, which I find captivating.  It may sound like a cliché, but it brings back childhood memories.  Opportunities prevailed during my childhood, which made me believe cooking was my destiny.  Food fascinated me.  When I eat, I savor every morsel.  And when I cook, I am filled with felicity.

We were fortunate to have a housekeeper, who also cooked.  She was my mentor.  I trailed behind Margaret for years, trying to ascertain the secrets she possessed.  I just wanted to be as competent as her.

“Margaret!  What are you fixing?”  I asked.

“I’m making dinner right now.  Do you want to help?”  She replied.

I was always lingering in the kitchen, looking for chances to help Margaret.  Lessons from her were something I looked forward to.  Cooking became a passion, and I relied on Margaret’s expertise.

Margaret’s forte had to be desserts.  She made a scrumptious unbelievable chocolate mousse cake, but her cookies, pastries, puddings and other delectable delights; all of it was equally as good.

Margaret was conscientious, and fixed healthy foods as well.  As I recall, she made a pot of fresh vegetable soup every week.  She had some great recipes.

“A lot of my recipes were given to me by my mother.  I cooked when I was a child too!”  Blurt Margaret.

Sometimes the process of food preparation was boring, but needed to be done.  I faced up to the challenge, and being obedient, I did as I was told.

“Put some water on to boil.  We are going to make potato salad for dinner.  Then you will need to peel potatoes.”  Said Margaret.

I went about my task, wearing an oversized apron, plopped on top of a stool, so I could reach the counter.  Peeling potatoes wasn’t my favorite thing to do, but I was content.

“It’s taking an awfully long time, to peel those potatoes!  What’s taking you so long?”  Asked Margaret.

“This is not easy!  I have little hands!  To get the peeling off of each potato, takes time!”  I complained.

As far as I am concerned, cooking is a form of art, and I am an artistic personality.  Finding the appropriate ingredients, and marrying them, to create a remarkable dish, is an artistic achievement.  I surmised from my experiences, you either

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