Introduction

Appears in

Published 2015

About

I don’t always love to cook. That is the simple truth.

Because I write cookbooks and teach cooking classes for a living, most people assume that I must really love cooking. But here is the reality: My life, much like yours, is not a dream world. When I serve dinner, no candles are lit, no opera is playing in the background. It’s not like it is in the pasta commercials. I’m not perfectly made up—no fresh lipstick or rosy cheeks.

When I’m at home cooking, about fifty other things are going on around me at the same time. Usually this includes my boisterous sons playing football in the middle of our New York City apartment and my daughter, in her Frozen tutu, running up and down the hallway while dragging her Hello Kitty rolling suitcase that is cascading musical instruments, stuffed animals, and candy in a trail along the floor. A loud siren is typically sounding outdoors. It’s probably a fire truck, and a squad of firefighters is likely gathered around the building next door, where there seems to be some mysterious pipe issues. Of course, the phone is ringing off the hook, too.