The next Food Network Star?

I really enjoy cooking. It is probably the one past time that I enjoy the most, other than hitting a great clearance rack at Dillard's and having enough credit to buy some stuff. I love to get a cookbook and read it cover to cover like a novel. I always say, "oh I want to try that one" and rarely do. But, it is fun and fulfilling to cook.
I think I can associate this new blogging obsession straight to food. If it weren't for egg rolls I would probably not be the blogger I am today, I would be no blogger at all. Mildred sent me the link to this blog called Posie gets cozy by Alicia Paulson. She is a very talented artist and an excellent writer as is her husband, Andy. Andy made a batch of egg rolls and posted the pictures and recipes on her blog. They looked delicious. Needless to say the blog was great and i read it from start to finish in about a week. She is a great writer and all of the things that she has created are really, really cool. As I read her writing I could feel my own creativity being drawn from the depths. The hinges were rusty, with a considerable amount of dust and cob webs, but out it came--here I am.
I have always loved to cook. I spent a cherished amount of time with my Great Grandmother, Granny and Great Aunt, Robba. They were precious jewels in my life and I miss them so very much that it hurts. I hold on to the memories of my time with them and guard them because I never want to forget one minute with them. Smells take me immediately back to their kitchens and tastes completely close the door in my imagination. They were great cooks. And I loved to mess around in the kitchen with them and soak up their tips. There are a truck load of good cooks in my family, on both sides. It's funny to me because the foods that they prepare which I love so much have to be prepared and served "in the vessel" that they are always served in because that is part and parcel to the experience.
Robba and I made my first dinner together at her house when I was seven or eight. Pork chops, Macaroni and Cheese, Peas. A feast--a feast that I made all by myself (with considerable supervision). That was just the beginning of my obsession with cooking and creating in the kitchen. I'm so grateful that I spent time in the kitchens of these two great ladies and had the gift of cooking presented to my life. It's wonderful and I love it.
My first kitchen disaster was a grilled cheese sandwich. Mom and I were at my Grandmother's house working on some project. I remember that we were there alone, just the three of us and I was hungry. A grilled cheese would satisfy my hunger pangs and I just knew i could make it all by my self. My Grandmother had this really cool round, cast iron griddle that was black as pitch and just wonderful. I turned on the gas stove, paying no attention to temperature adjustment, just high as I didn't know that you adjusted the stove it was either on or off. As the heat from that skillet began to almost glow white hot I supposed it was ready for the buttered bread. Slapping that piece of butter on the super hot skillet really sent up quite a plume of smoke and a very loud sizzle. I never knew a piece of bread could give off that much smoke and that much sizzle sound. Assuming this is how the grilling process went I pressed on. I place the piece of processed American cheese on the bread and waited a minute. Smoke still billowing up from the griddle. To ensure the proper meltage of the cheese I decided it would really be best to have the cheese make contact with the griddle surface. Just a point of note: When working with smoking hot cast-iron griddles one doesn't need to have the cheese make direct contact with the skillet, seems it melts enough on it's own. Placing the cheese on the griddle was the end of my solo sandwich making experience. things were getting out of control. My Mom and Grandmother came running into the kitchen and were just over whelmed by the sight. I didn't get that sandwich or any sandwich for that matter. I was banished from Grandmother's kitchen and given stern looks of disapproval. Mom and I got McDonald's on the way home which covered up the multitude of sins and filled the void.
Lately I've been having these bizarre dreams of being a host of my very own Food Network show. I am the host of a children's cooking show. Apparently I make full course meals that are super kid friendly and easy to make. Two children help me out, usually one child star of note and an anonymous child--probably sent over from the agency. I've aired three episodes in my mind thus far: Mexican Fiesta (empinada enchiladas, fruit salsa with cinnamon sugar chips, Mexican rice, and sopapilla cheesecake); A baby comes home party (I read about this in a Southern Living and just made the recipes that were in that article); and a random nightly dinner (houdini hot dogs, and flower pot desserts with homemade crisp rice pots). Guest appearances by Jonathan Lipnicky, Webster, and Dakota Fanning. It's amazing how much detail is in my dream and also somewhat scary. I really don't want to dwell in my subconscious much because I have enough trouble wading through the garbage in my conscious mind.
I'll have to share more cooking escapades with you, later. I'm sure this blog is long enough to drive Mildred to distraction. Take that!