My Beautiful Chefs

My daughter gets her love of cooking from her dad. When my kids were young, they thought the traditional gender role for who makes the family meals was the dad, because that's who cooked dinner in our house. Since their mother was so indifferent and uninspired in the kitchen, my son and my daughter both learned to roll up their sleeves and fend for themselves when their dad wasn't home. They're both pretty darn good cooks because of it, and my daughter particularly finds the mixing and mastering to be a lovely meditation. On a night when she is swamped with homework and generally stressed, she will pull out her colorful bowls and start to blend and stir, her trusty laptop open to whatever recipe she has decided on. To me, it looks like piling stress on top of stress, but once the confection is in the oven, my girl is at peace and ready to tackle whatever hell has been dreamed up by her teachers. She is entering 11th grade this week and will have to start thinking about college this year. I wonder what she will choose to pursue? The photos below were taken before her braces came off. Can you tell she has this big dear papa bear of a man wrapped around her little finger?

And this was our daughter yesterday, making tiramisu. We have company coming this weekend!