Deviled Eggs and Teriyaki Chicken Quesadillas
There’s something kind of disgusting about saying those two things together. “One of these things is not like the other…” But if I had to pick two things that described my beginnings in the kitchen it would be those two.
I’m smiling so hard right now.
I just know one of you is gagging over the deviled eggs.
School started for me well before other kids as I attended early morning seminary for my church before school every morning.
Have you been to the Pacific Northwest before?
Mornings are the most cozy thing in the world there. It’s all dark and chilly and a fine mist hangs in the air, dampening everything around. You step out of your house, a lazy fog swirling through the thick, heavy trunked trees and your hair getting fluffier and frizzier by the moment as the cool, wet air hits it.
And I was off, driving through the dark, up 118th street to an old church building to learn more about who I am, where I came from and why I’m here. BUT never with an empty stomach. I have always sacrificed sleep, not for makeup like the other girls, but for breakfast. At that age it was generally cereal, an occasional brown sugar pop-tart or yogurt and toast.
Because my day started early, school lunch was at 10:20 and dinner wasn’t until 6, so I was famished by the time I got home from school.
Dance of the Kitchen
Bless my mom’s heart, she let me make random pre-dinners every day. It was me experimenting with flavors to satisfy a hunger but it ended up teaching me a lot about the natural dance of the kitchen, and deviled eggs and teriyaki chicken quesadillas were my waltz to tango.
The secret to a good cook isn’t talent, it’s eating and making recipes. And eating some more. Figuring out what you like and why. Making something every day, even if it’s just oatmeal so you get comfortable moving and breathing in the kitchen.
Anyone else make random things growing up?