I grew up in a family that loves to cook (and eat), and I don’t think that’s ever left me.
The day after I come home from university, I wake up in the morning—after the long flight from Toronto to Vancouver—and I can hear my dad’s playlist and the sound of him cooking breakfast, and I know it’s going to be a good day.
My dad shares his love through cooking, and I don’t think there’s any better way. In my house, birthdays and holidays never meant a nice dinner out; it meant afternoons in the grocery store and evenings spent in the kitchen and at the dining table. Growing up with an appreciation for good, home-cooked food is the best gift my family has given me, and I’ve taken it into my life at university.
Important to note is that my passion for eating came before my love of cooking. As a kid, I used to compete with my cousins to see who could eat the most at family dinners, and I always left a champion. My dad’s an incredible cook, and my childhood wouldn’t have been the same without his signature dishes: seared tuna steaks, scallops, homemade pizza and pasta, holiday cinnamon buns, and apple pie.
When I moved across the country for university, residence life always felt like something was missing. I didn’t love being cooped up in a tiny room, and I experienced my first bout of homesickness. But it wasn’t until I read Michelle Zauner’s Crying in H-Mart (2021) that I realized the connection between food, family, and a sense of safety and control over my life. Zauner’s memoir reminded me that food can connect you to people, even after they’re gone. Unfortunately for me, I was still stuck eating at the dining hall every day.
In second year, I moved into a house with five of my best friends. While I love our house more than residence for a wide variety of reasons, the main one is cooking. It can be daunting to grocery shop and cook for yourself for the first time; however, the challenge was welcome, and it quickly grew into one of my favourite things to do.
I love that I get to come home each day and do something mindless with my hands. Cooking for just myself relieves the pressure; if I fail, it’s only one portion of food lost, and I don’t mind a peanut butter sandwich for dinner if need be. I took my second year as an opportunity to experiment with food and cooking, and I’ve never looked back. As I’ve grown more confident, I started cooking for my friends and housemates. Seeing my friends all come together over a home-cooked meal is both heartwarming and rewarding.
Last year for my birthday, my friends asked me what I wanted to do, and the only thing I could think of was to cook for them. I spent the day making and rolling out pasta dough, cutting it into fine noodles. Then my housemates and I made a sauce together and invited all our friends over for dinner in the backyard. Seeing everyone bonded together over a good meal was the best gift I could’ve possibly given myself.
As my confidence grew, it was like a whole new world of fun activities opened to me. Summer barbecues, house brunches, and group dinners with my rugby team weren’t daunting anymore and are now some of my favourite memories in university.
This year at The Journal, I’ve decided to initiate a MasterChef-inspired competition on the masthead—where everyone has to cook for the group, and eventually we’ll crown a MasterChef. I think anyone who participated can say that the group bonded over our shared love of food, whether it be cooking or eating.
I find it so beautiful that the distinct and mundane need to eat can bring people together and create such special memories. The practice of sitting down and enjoying a meal with friends has existed for centuries in almost every culture, and it’s my hope that it’ll continue for many more.
Many university students don’t eat well, whether it be for financial reasons or the irregularity of their schedule. On top of that, many women have a difficult and complicated relationship with food. As an athlete, I was always taught I had to eat a certain amount, but I was never taught to enjoy the food or be grateful for what it enabled me to do.
My childhood of home-cooked meals has allowed me to appreciate what good food can do for my life. Viewing eating as a way to unplug and share experiences with friends has made my personal relationship with food better.
From growing up in the kitchen, to eating residence food, to now living on my own and successfully feeding myself daily, I’ve come to realize how food can bring people together and enhance your quality of life. Beyond the connection aspect, I find the physical task anxiety relieving after working behind a screen all day.
Though it can be hard on a university budget to make delicious and enjoyable food for yourself, it’s not impossible, and if done correctly, it could change your life for the better.
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Chris
I hope your dad had a cool playlist