I learned to cook watching my mother and helping her. She had a wood burning stove. I never thought it unusual. We had a lot of neighbors who cooked on a wood burning stove. I learned to put my hand in the oven and count until it was a certain number before I had to withdraw it. Then I knew it was the right temperature for a cake or some other food.
I still cook the foods my mother taught me to make. And some my first husband taught me. I find cooking very therapeutic. I love prepping the veggies for a stew or even a dinner. Very rarely do I buy a can of veggie. If I do, it will be probably sliced beets for beet salad.
There are certain foods I just have to peel. Cucumbers, potatoes for mashed, all carrots. There are just some peelings I am not willing to eat. I will often run a fork down the side. It gives the veggie an appealing look.
I have yet to have a failure making gravy. Whether it is pan gravy or from the juices of the roast. Never a lump. I thank my mother for that. She gave me the secret.
I cook because it is a way to bring out the feelings of taking care of my children. They are all grown now, but still want me to make special dishes for them.
So why do I love to cook.
For my family
For the pleasure it gives me.
Seeing how much others enjoy the food I fixed for them.
And because it gives me time to just think quietly while I am cooking.