
"I never really thought about it. But now that you ask, it feels like hundreds of reasons are floating in my mind, justifying the insanely long hours I seem to spend in the kitchen. If I had to name a few, let’s start with these:
I cook because I love the feel of food in my hands. The smooth skin of kneaded dough, the beaded florets on a crown of broccoli, the sticky reside of chopped garlic cloves.
I cook because it makes me feel creative. Mashing spices, blending flavors, giving a traditional recipe my unique touch.
I cook because it’s my contribution. Something I can give my friends and family to enjoy, and hopefully put a smile on their face.
I cook because it comes naturally to me. And we all tend to gravitate toward innate talents or abilities.
I cook because it keeps me sane. The rituals of the kitchen help me unwind from a crazy day at work, or the two-hour traffic jam, or the bills on the counter.
I cook because it connects me with my past. I envision my great-grandmother, who taught me the value of fresh foods, preparing meals similar to mine when she was growing up in Italy.
I cook because chemicals, hormones and pesticides scare me. When I cook something myself, I know what I am eating and where it came from.
I cook because I think about food all day long. From the moment I open my eyes until my last bite of dinner, and if my day doesn’t involve something good to eat, it’s just not a good day."
But mainly, I cook because I love it, and because it makes me who I am."