Life by Jen

I was at the counter cooking as far back I can remember. I remember the apron that my mom gave me when I was just three years old. It was white with rainbows, trimmed in red, and sewed with a quilt-like pattern. It was bright, cheery, and I was always so excited to put it on and pull my chair up to the counter to help my mother or father in the kitchen.

As an adult, I’m honestly not always excited to be in the kitchen. Cooking when you have to, often just seems like (ok, is) a chore. Cooking because I am inspired by something I found at the store, the farmer’s market, or dreamed up in my head, is akin to picking up a paintbrush and painting a canvas. I love rooting through the fridge and cupboard, finding things I should probably get to using and then piecing together a meal from my inspiration. It’s like an episode of Chopped, except I don’t have a cool chef outfit. Though, arguably, since I have kids, the judges from the sidelines with their commentary are still there.

While I don’t always feel inspired, I still have to feed everyone. When I am in need of inspiration, I often look to my overflowing cookbook cupboard, flip through the pages of one of my many cookbooks, scroll my never-ending Pinterest feed, or scroll my favourite restaurants on Instagram. One of my favourite perks of travelling is learning about new dishes, ingredients, or methods of cooking. I am known for packing spices, sauces, and the like into my suitcase just like souvenirs. I am usually able to summon up something to make. If all else fails, I throw on my favourite apron (a recent Paris acquisition). Or, in all honesty, call our go-to sushi place. Not all nights are meant for cooking. Some nights are meant for sushi trays or Subway – let’s be real.

A recent Paris acquisition because the internet told me I needed to try it.