Why I Cook

This blog has been dormant long enough!  Long story short: Life got crazy and I moved to Chicago and then life got crazy again…but a writing exercise I did in my first creative non-fiction class reminded me why I needed to come back.

Why I Cook

Staring sadly at my cold miniature stove in my hot miniature apartment I must remind myself why I cook. I cook because I have to eat. I cook because I love to eat. I cook because bread is my favorite fragrance.  I cook because cinnamon cracks on my tongue like Christmas.  I cook because I’m horrible at flirting, and a plate of brownies says “I like you” better than I can.  I cook because I’m horrible at making friends, and a plate of cupcakes says “Like me” better than I can.  I cook because I miss home.  I cook because my roots are in arroz con frijoles and plátanos maduros.  I cook because truffle salt exists.  I cook because cinnamon and nutmeg were born for each other.  I cook because food is my third language.  I cook because food is everyone’s language.

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