Where we live now, folks don't do too much cooking for themselves, they eat out.
They have these beautiful, big, fancy, everything-you-could-ever-want-in-it, gourmet, caterers kitchen that they don't use.
When we're invited to someones home and I see this, my fingers literally itch, I
WANT to cook there.
As the conversation at this said cocktail party (they don't eat, just drink and nibble) turns to the question of "what do you do my dear?", and I reply that I'm doing what I've always wanted to do, I'm a true blue homemaker and love it. The response to that is, "yes, but what do you do?"
I cook and bake and can; whatever I feel like to I want to make.
It's like I'm speaking a different language, they simply do not understand.
"You mean that you cook food, real food?"
YES!
Real Food!
We don't order out, we rarely go to fast food restaurants, I shop for all of the ingredients myself, I prepare all of our meals, everyday, I clean it all up, I adore kitchen stores,
AND YES, I enjoy it.
I won't say that I have a passion for cooking, that to me is an emotion that I save for my husband
The next question is always, "but there's only two of you, why mess up the kitchen?"
WHAT?
Sometimes when I make a recipe that just is too much and I don't feel like freezing it or having it for leftovers the next day, I share it with our neighbors.
Need I say that all of the folks that live around us, like us?