When I was little, I'd ask my mom if I could help her "cook", but as dicing or julienning vegetables was deemed too dangerous, I was demoted to Chief Rice-and-Produce-Washer. (Hated it. Booooring.) When I hit the double-digits in years, I was sometimes allowed to sauté or stir-fry (with repeated warnings, of course, to watch my wrists over the hot pan edges, which warnings, it seems, were not as effective as accidentally doing it once). When I was a teen and Mom would actually invite me into the kitchen to watch, help and learn, I couldn't care less. So I didn't pay any attention to what I was … [Read more...]