I Hope You Enjoy Your Food
I love everything about the food experience.
The feeling of a gurgly and growling stomach.
My mind trying to decide what it’s craving.
Perusing through my fridge.
Grocery shopping and getting all gorgeous, colorful whole-foods.
Pointing and tapping at the glass to get the butcher to see which filet I want.
Displaying all of the vegetables on my counter to slice on a cutting board.
The way the vegetables naturally lay so beautifully like they’re posing for a still-life painting.
The crunch of a celery stick.
The fluffiness of freshly grated parmesan.
The smell of scorching hot olive oil while it sizzles four sliced garlic cloves and one shallot.
The sound of a steak sear.
Decadent, intentional plating.
Lighting a candle on the table.
Getting out the nice glasses.
Ordering a fancy cocktail to fidget and swirl in my hand.
Unravelling and flipping out the folded napkin onto my lap.
The heaviness and luxurious feel of the menu.
To order or to not order an appetizer?
The childlike anticipation while I wait my turn to order.
The fresh bread and butter.
The tension of the server sitting down the plates.
The aromas.
The first bite.
And the wonderful conversation that is to follow.
Yeah, I mean everything. To me, food isn’t just something you shove in your mouth to live another day.
Food is an experience; a hobby, self-expression. It’s creativity. It’s getting out of your comfort zone and trying something new. It's a vulnerability in long, delightful conversations you hope never end. It’s having too much yet not enough. It’s tactile and useful. It’s grounding. It enriches your soul (and your stomach).
Those who have dined with me in the past have often said that I am “very fun to watch” while eating with me. In all seriousness, that is easily my favorite compliment I’ve ever received.
I’m the type of person who wants to seize the day, romanticize thy life, and savor every single bite.
And by savor every single bite, I mean far beyond the naturalness of enjoying the act of eating food that satisfies your hunger and nourishes your body. Something more than that.
I loved all that encompasses “food”: like the experience of cooking at home, the experience of dining out, and the experience of watching The Food Network, and simply thinking about what I’ll cook for dinner later that night. The fact that we have the ability to enjoy and be creative with food is something we sometimes don’t appreciate like we should.
And I used to not genuinely appreciate it until I moved to New York.
New York City tends to kind of do most-things masterfully, especially in the restaurant scene.
In second place to California, there are 68 Michelin star restaurants throughout the city of New York. And there are roughly 17,619 restaurants in all five boroughs. And I have tried approximately 200 of them. I have a lot of work to do.
New York City knows how to wine and dine, to put it lightly. The food is diverse, unique, flat-out expensive, and down-right delicious. There’s no better place to be if you are a self-proclaimed foodie and enjoy food in any capacity (no matter the price tag!)
But back in the day, I still loved the experience but didn’t fully understand the process.
I always loved when my mom would cook a big dinner, and not just because my mother always cooked delicious meals, because my aunt and my grandmother would come over and all of my sisters would congregate and chit chat in the kitchen for hours while she was cooking. We’d snack on bits that she would have us try to ensure she was on the right track for whatever dish she was whipping up. And how did I participate? I was one of the taste testers.
More salt.
Too salty.
Ehhh… it’s okay? Oh Mom… it’s yuuuuummm.
And that was all I’d contribute back then. Pathetic, I know, but that was how I started to appreciate the cooking process and what worked and what didn’t work in a dish.
I never thought I’d love cooking. Never, ever. It still surprises my mother and sister, Emerald (whatever she touches gets a Michelin star), to the nth degree. Emerald would always accompany my mother as the sous chef. Somehow, she always knew what was missing, what my mother was doing “wrong” (her words–not mine!), and how to dirty up every single utensil, bowl, and plate for preparation before dinner was even served.
I always admired my mother and Emerald's cooking abilities. I just never thought I’d actually join in. And neither did Andrew.
“You used to burn grilled cheeses in college,” Andrew jokingly said after devouring a meal I’d cooked.
“I’m more proud of this dish than my master’s degree,” I sincerely responded.
Weirdly enough, I learned the very basics of cooking by using HelloFresh. I kid you not, before HelloFresh, I had no idea how to cook anything other than a basic, borning white bread grilled cheese and Campbell’s chicken noodle soup. However, I, somehow, could decipher an exceptional dinner from a good dinner to an okay dinner to a terrible dinner. And 78% of my biweekly paychecks going to my rent, I wanted to learn how to replicate these fancy dinners at home.
This feels like the silliest sentence ever, but it all started to click once I got HelloFresh. I was understanding the fundamentals of cooking that I didn’t care to ask my mother (at the time) when I lived at home. I started to get the feel that everyone talks about. I could eyeball it. I could pinpoint what was missing. I was… cooking.
And soon enough, I was cooking my own meals with no assistance from a food subscription service. If I wanted to eat steak au poivre, I would research, watch videos, read recipes and I’d make it for half the price. And even better, to my surprise, it was always delicious.
That’s another part I love about cooking. I consistently surprise myself at how tasty at-home cooking can be. I used to be of the mind that everything tasted better at restaurants, but now? I absolutely disagree.
I cook with my heart. My favorite ingredient is love. And I think that is the secret to cooking. You need to slow down and enjoy every moment. You don’t need to rush it. Take your time. Your hands should be dirty and your kitchen messy.
It’s like the unauthored quote, “Maturing is realizing ‘Christmas magic’ was just your mom all along.” There is a person who cares behind your dish and overall food experience. It isn’t some phenomenon that just happens. It’s a powerful force of passion, creativity, care, and love. When you add those elements to food, you have not only a delicious experience, but an intentional experience.
When I look at my teenie, tiny New York City kitchen–I can’t help but think about the first time I cracked open the box of HelloFresh, laid out the ingredients, and looked at the instruction manual like I was about to put together a cabinet. And now, my kitchen is my favorite place to be, the heart of our home. In my kitchen, I’ve overcooked steaks, I’ve undercooked brussel sprouts, I’ve handmade pasta, I’ve perfected avocado toast, I’ve made award-winning cortados, I’ve messed up Cacio e Pepe, I’ve made a poisonous amount of salmon, and I’ve learned a lot through it all.
Food isn’t just eating to sustain life, but to enjoy life.
"Pull up a chair. Take a taste. Come join us. Life is so endlessly delicious."
–Ruth Reichl
What are your experiences with food, cooking, and dining?
