Cooking is a tradition that runs in my family for generations. It’s our living heritage. All women in my family are incredible cooks. Growing up, I watched my great grand mother Emma from Germany, my grand mother Marjorie from Portugal and my Australian mom, Ronaldine brought their culture and culinary delights to the table. They all were fundamentally influential in shaping my culinary skills. I know there is a lot of the daring creativity of my mother in my cookings, but her common sense, her thrift and her European heritage combined with years living in Indonesia has been passed to me-the first daughter in the family-along with the Australian passion from her father side to define the precious heritage that we have as it relates to time spent in the kitchen. It brings back the memories I grew up with evoking surrounding the meals and sweet memories of good smells in the kitchen starting very early in the morning.
Growing up, I realize that it’s not only what she taught me that makes me the cook I am today, but also it’s something in my blood that taught me tricks with left overs, trick to not to be afraid of substitutions. I may experiment with the way something has always been prepared and decide to get creative. The kitchen has becoming one of my favorite places to be in the house. There I am, tall and gracious and perfectly comfortable, enthuse about making the perfect meals, sails through the incredible ingredients. My kitchen is friendly, bustling, involving. A little of this, a pinch of that. My kitchen is warm, capable and a restful place where my nimble fingers efficiently take care of business, and Voila, some incredible food to taste on.