A couple years ago, I was cooking dinner with some friends, and by "cooking" I mean frying some pre-cooked empanadas my mom made for me, when my kitchen suddenly caught flame in a grease fire. This became a running joke between my friends and I for several years, which was nice because it served as a perfect excuse to avoid cooking. I was the person that would say things like "I can't cook anything...I'll burn pasta and vaporize all my water without even putting the food in the pot". We all know people who mask their incompetence in the kitchen with a subtle joke and a chuckle. Two years ago my New Year's resolution was to learn how to cook. This task became a daunting obligation. Viewing myself as a non-cook would empower me; it made me feel like I had more important things to do than to be domestic. With time, I've come torealize that my mentality about cooking and my negative predisposition towards it had very little to do with the actual act of cooking; rather, it had everything to do with a long-standing battle I’ve had with food, life, and myself. The first year after my New Year's resolution was anything but enlightening. I continued to hate cooking, and although I didn’t start another fire, I continued to burn my meals. This year, however, after pushing past my initial repulsion towards cooking, I'm uncovering more than different tastes and smells; I'm uncovering truths about myself and unwrapping a new kind of self-confidence that extends far beyond the confined walls of my kitchen.
