Things really started heating up in the kitchen after I graduated from college—literally.
With no more dining halls to fall back on and no budget for eating out, I found myself cooking regularly in the apartment I shared with two friends.
Luckily, my roommates were just as eager to learn.
We took turns experimenting with new recipes, swapping ideas, and figuring out how to make healthy, budget-friendly meals that didn’t taste like cardboard. We even started hosting little dinner gatherings, often inviting our boyfriends over for taste tests.
And then came Miguel.
One of my roommates was dating a guy who worked as a professional cook at a local country club, crafting fancy dishes for private dining guests.
Suddenly, we had an insider.
Miguel’s knowledge—and confidence—rubbed off on all of us. He introduced us to new flavors, techniques, and ingredients, and before we knew it, we were “going gourmet” in our tiny apartment kitchen.
That chapter? It was delicious.
Once my taste buds woke up, there was no turning back. I dove headfirst into cookbooks, fine dining, and kitchen experiments—armed with curiosity, a few sticky notes, and a dream of becoming a “not-so-bad cook.” In this post, I share the turning point where recipes became my teachers, margins became my journals, and a stack of trusted cookbooks became the start of my culinary confidence.
Read more in my next blog post: COOKBOOKS, CONFIDENCE & KICK-ASS PANCAKES: HOW I STARTED FINDING MY FLAVOR
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