How I learned to cook


Updated on 22 March 2013 | 0 Comments

When did you learn how to cook? And who were you inspired by? Our own Charlotte and Simon share their stories.

Charlotte's story

Sugar puffs, strawberry yoghurt, and tinned tomatoes: that’s all I remember eating in the first few weeks of university. My 18-year-old self was more interested in partying than pan frying, and I am ashamed to admit that, within the space of a whole year, the only thing I mastered was how to bake a potato (“a drizzle of oil and pinch of salt makes all the difference,” my roommate used to say).

Don’t blame the parents: mum, who is quite simply the best cook in the world, was always encouraging me to watch and learn over her shoulder, and there was never a lack of exotic ingredients to experiment with at home. But I was an uninterested teenager I suppose, and preferred a bag of crisps and a Mars Bar to a Michelin-starred meal. Nothing short of an epiphany was going to change my view on food.

hesterThat epiphany came in the form of my friend and fellow history student, Hester from York (here we are together, looking silly). She was one of few who came to uni fully prepared, with a repertoire of cheap and cheerful healthy meals under her belt. I lived with Hester in second year, and it was during those evenings in our lovely, damp, spider-infested, above-a-tattoo-parlour flat that I caught the cooking bug.

‘Rice and bits’ was the first dish I learnt. As the title implies, it was brown rice with various bits 'n' bobs leftover in the fridge… not the most exciting prospect now, but back then I thought it was superb. We’d usually fry onion, courgette and mushrooms for it, then maybe add a bit of chicken (which I was previously too nervous to cook), and even some toasted nuts or seeds – I couldn’t believe how much better pumpkin seeds tasted after popping in a pan for a minute or two.

cakeAs the months wore on, I perfected Spanish omelette, bubble 'n' squeak, homemade soups, and little bun cakes (here we are, making them together), spurred on by the awakening of my taste buds, which quite literally sprung into action overnight. The battered sausages sold at the union which I once lived for suddenly tasted terrible, and I found myself spending more and more time shopping for fresh vegetables, different cuts of meat, and herbs and spices.

By the time I had left uni a year later, food was my hobby, my passion and what I looked forward to the most. The transformation was staggering – I set my sights on becoming a food writer the day I graduated – and it all started with the lass from Yorkshire. So thank you, friend!  

Simon's story

Cub cooking badgeI definitely got my Cook's badge at Cubs, but I'm not sure there was that much cooking involved, at least not directly by us youngsters. I used to help my mum with baking (the licking of the spoon/spatula/mixer paddle at the end being the highlight, as I'm sure it has been for children for generations), but that's about it.

Then at GCSE time, genuinely fearful of what would transpire in Design & Technology and Engineering, unimpressed by Textiles and PE, I plumped for Home Economics. And under the tutelage of Mrs Brown – who looked like she stepped out of a book called 'How To Be A Home Economics Teacher' – my cooking repertoire gradually increased up to a three-course meal. Of course, there were mishaps along the way (throwing away avocado flesh when making a prawn cocktail for my parents; how was I supposed to know, I'd never eaten the thing).

At the end of it, I had another GCSE pass. Arguably as importantly, taking that subject meant when I went to university I could rustle up more than instant noodles smothered in a jar of pasta sauce (although I may have resorted to that occasionally, but always with a feeling that I was cheating myself).

After graduating, my cooking went on the back burner (if you'll pardon the pun) for a few years while I explored the great and the not so good of London's restaurant scene. Then when a mortgage, and later on children, came along it was time to cast my mind back to the lessons learned in that classroom all those years ago. I'm sure Mrs Brown has long since retired, but she definitely influenced one spotty boy's future, in more ways than one.

We want to know how you learnt to cook... so talk to us in the comments box below!

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