Every parents’ biggest fear when their child is being whisked off to a far-off land is a fear of the unknown. They fear their child would not be able to take good care of himself.
Would he go hungry?
Would he make new friends?
Would he be able to cope with the weather?
Would he go hungry?
These are just some of the questions parents have lost sleep over and wasted no time in formulating the most devious of plans to ensure the uninterrupted survival of their child.
My parents, like any other, was most distraught by a unique trait I possess which allows me to burn anything I attempt to cook up in the kitchen to a crisp. After much deliberation, it was decided that I would spend my summer break preparing every meal for the family, and inevitably get better at it as I progress. Suffice to say, my siblings were not amused, but steeled themselves for the greater good. That was a smart move on their part, for I never knew what I was getting myself into.
I started by revisiting the basics, which involved making ice. It took some practice, but eventually I got the hang of it. Then came the making of omelettes, which is the staple foodstuff of students who have no time, patience nor funds to afford a proper meal. By the end of the ordeal, I was left with a sense of accomplishment for finally nailing something that should have been nailed way back in primary school.
Over the course of the next few months, I would be tasked with many assignments, I would be branded with countless battle-scars, and I would lose nigh all of my taste-buds by being force-fed my own abominable creations. Many a night was spent getting the awful tastes off my tongue, and many others was spent in fear of what the next day would bring. However, one thing was apparent, each dish invoked in me a renewed desire to reinvent, remodel and reproduce.
It took many moons, but at the end of my summer boot-camp, from the darkness, I am proud to say I have emerged a man reborn. I now possess the the skills required to not incinerate anything I touch in the kitchen and given the funds, I am confident that I can sustain myself with a culinary prowess my mother can never fully be proud of.
I am grateful for this opportunity, to have improved myself as a person and better prepare me for the transition to the UK. It was a most rewarding trial where I was able to experience the art and science of cooking. If given the chance, would I go back and do it all over again?
No, never, not a chance.
Picture courtesy of www.epicurious.com