Bridging the Distance

Christie Maly

For me, the word “summertime” evokes memories of get-togethers with the extended family, trips to the mall with my friends, and the annual 4th of July bash hosted by my city. However, this summer didn’t have any of that. There would be different habits and routines. One where I would adjust my mask before I stepped foot outside of my house. Another to schedule phone calls with friends both near and far. And yet another to keep up with the latest updates on COVID-19 by watching the daily news. 

At first, I was saddened by the loss of my normal routine. I missed the real-time moments of human connection, and I realized that it could be a year before I could have such experiences again. However, I eventually realized that this didn’t have to be the case. Amidst social distancing guidelines, people across the world were finding creative, funny, and exciting ways to maintain their relationships with their loved ones and even forming new ones along the way. 

The content I was seeing online pushed me to come up with better ideas than simple phone calls to engage with family. A weekend spent binge-watching Gordon Ramsey videos and my limited cooking experience prompted me to suggest a cooking competition to my cousin. The rules were simple: we would select two of the same ingredients and create whatever dish we chose; a winner would subsequently be determined based on rankings by all of our parents.

My cousin—already an incredible cook—was enthusiastic about the competition, and so our weekend cook-off was born. The first weekend of our competition was exciting; our two ingredients were steak and asparagus, and both of us were intrigued by what the other would create. Unlike what is depicted on television, simply slapping a steak on a grill doesn’t ensure a medium-rare cook. However, I didn’t know this, and to my surprise (and eventual horror), I learned that I had to let the steak sit in the oven for an hour after I pan-seared it to ensure a thorough cook. For the other key ingredient of asparagus, I frankly forgot about it until the end. I decided a simple asparagus roast with herbs/spices cooked in olive oil (which Gordon Ramsey asserts that you can never have too much of) would suffice. Needless to say, it did not taste good. Even worse, lunch had been considerably delayed and my family was not happy. I had taken the “L.”

My creation (on the left) and my cousin’s dish (on the right). I think it’s obvious who won this first round. 

I definitely was not satisfied with the end result, especially when comparing my plate to my cousin’s. This initial challenge taught me three lessons: cooking is harder than it looks, I needed to improve my cooking skills, and I should be much more grateful for the people who cook for me. Recognizing my shortcomings, I resolved to use this competition as a way to improve my cooking skills and learn my way around the kitchen. 

Each dish I made taught me a new lesson. My honey-glazed chicken—tasty on the outside but bland on the inside—emphasized the importance of marinating meat. My hand-made pasta taught me that dough needs to rest in the fridge for it to rise and kneading dough can take a lot of energy. My potato crisps with cheese taught me that not all types of cheese will melt with heat - some, in fact, burn. While I was proud of myself for cooking, I had become increasingly dissatisfied with the food I was making. 

Faced with this dissatisfaction and the sadness of a mundane 4th of July, I decided that I would make this particular holiday one of joy and celebration. Therefore, I elected to make a dish I had always wanted to create: pies. I found a recipe for mini-pies on Martha Stewart’s website and got to work. When making the filling, I once again encountered issues. I had added a tad too much cornstarch to the filling, and my egg wash was seeping off the crust into the filling. I thought that I was once again on a trajectory for failure.  However, when I tasted the pies that came out of the oven, I was surprised: They weren’t bad. In fact, they were delicious. The blend of raspberries and blackberries was amazing, and it was a bit unbelievable that my hands had created such a delectable treat. The pies were the encouragement I needed to know that this cooking endeavor wasn’t fruitless. Moreover, I could finally take the “W.” 

While savoring this victory, I also had the opportunity to reflect on why this meant so much to me. It took weeks of struggle for me to get to this point, and I realized that the real winners were people like my mom. It takes effort to create delicious dishes for everyone in the household, and my mom does this daily. I had imagined this cooking competition to be a way for me to have a brush with cooking—a low-commitment, fun activity to test my skills. However, for my mom, it was a daily ritual that she honed with consistent practice.

With this increased clarity and the end of the summer drawing to a close I no longer looked at cooking as a short-time excursion. It is a life skill that requires patience, practice, and dedication. Moreover, it is the responsibility of all who benefit from this practice to share in its burden. Now that summer is over, I still intend to cook.  In fact, to hold myself accountable to this commitment, I created a weekly cooking schedule so our entire family would share the responsibility of creating nourishing food for all of us to enjoy. Even though I’m still mostly confined to my home, this cooking endeavor has allowed me to become closer with my immediate family - as we collectively learn the best practices for frying fish, cleaning shrimp, and other techniques used to cook our staple foods. I started this project looking to be declared the “master chef” of the family. However, I learned that I have a long way to go before I can call myself a “chef” in the first place.