There are many things in my life that make me happy. My husband, my sisters, my parents, my nieces and soon to be babies, a good movie, make me really happy. Those are dead giveaways though. Here's one you might not know...
It makes me happy when people eat something I have made and they like it. I don't just mean a "Oh good I'm glad you like it" but a full satisfaction that is hard to explain.
I've been baking since I was 9. I started out with really simple stuff but I got more and more into it as I was older. One afternoon I opened up a cookbook my aunt made for my mom and looked through the dessert section. I found a recipe called "Chocolate Sheet cake". I had heard my mom mention it a time or two but I had never had it before. So I whipped it up. It was a major hit. I brought it to seminary on someones birthday. I brought it to the neighborhood party. I brought it to school. Pretty soon people were requesting "Kellie Cake" and referring to is as that. It made me so happy!
I say this in the most humble and unbragging (I know it's not a word but it is today) way possible... People started saying "Well we all know Kellie's a good cook". I was very thankful and humbled by that compliment. But I got bit of a complex about it. I started getting really nervous about cooking and I was really sensitive to any criticism about my food. I'm still working on not being so personally sensitive to someone's opinion. But you know how people are about their art, like paintings. If you critique their painting, it's like you're critiquing their personality. I sometimes feel that way about my food.
My mom loved to tell us the story of when she made dinner for my dad the first time after they were married. She decided to make up clam chowder. She must have added a cup of corn starch because it was like cement when they ate it. They always laugh about it. I was nervous about making dinner for Mark. I'd cooked for him before but since we were married it seemed like such a big deal to me. We spent a week on our honeymoon and it took us a while to get into our apartment. I was about ready to pull my hair out because I had not cooked in weeks and we had been eating out since our wedding day. I got sick of it after a while. So I focused all the moving in efforts on the kitchen and I made Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup with garlic bread. I was so nervous for Mark to eat it. Which is funny to me now. He took a bite and closed his eyes and made "mmmmmm" noises and seemed to really like it. After a few bites he said I finally feel like we are home now. I did too.
I have a strange relationship with food I know. but I love it.
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