EXAMPLE & MAIN PAGE - EBOOK - Conquering the Homemaking Facade (1) - Flipbook - Side 47
about the authors
I grew up learning how to cook by helping my mother prepare meals in the kitchen of our
Southern California home. Mealtime meant the entire family sat around the huge, wooden
slab table my father built for our large family. We never had a lot of money, and my mother
learned to be creative in the kitchen so she could feed our family of seven with the limited
household budget that a teacher’s salary allowed. Every meal was well planned, made from
scratch, and let’s just say—somewhat interesting.
It wasn’t until my mom got divorced that I learned she hated to cook. That’s when I learned
a whole new set of skills. I learned what it takes to get by as a single mother and take care
of your family. My mom went to back to school and, for years, was first a full-time student.
Once she completed college and worked full time, she still managed to feed my four hungry
brothers and me on an even smaller budget—and with less time and energy. I learned that, as
women, there are times when we are called on to prepare food for those we love—even when
it’s not what we aspire to, enjoy, or excel at.
I come from a family of painters and artists. But the god of artistry (Apollo, I’m calling you
out) decided to skip a generation and not bestow that gift upon me. To this day, I can hardly
draw an attractive stick figure. When I was seven, my frustrated mother pushed a bunch of
construction paper, glue, and scissors at me, and said, “create.” So I did. My masterpiece,
horrible and ugly, remained on the fridge for as long as societal norms allowed before it
disappeared forever. That’s when I fell in love with the process of crafting—making something
wonderful out of nothing.
My creativity extends to my skills in the kitchen. If there is anything I learned about cooking, it
is that the only time you can’t fix a recipe is if you pour a pint of salt into the pot or torched it
to a black crisp. Everything else is salvageable. And as all masters of improv would say, just go
with it. Anything and everything goes. It just might surprise you.