My First Cooking Experience

 My First Cooking Experience

My mother used to put an invisible "Stop" sign in the kitchen when I was a kid. "No, you cannot enter here!" she would always tell me. I don't blame her; it's not a place for children. One day, there was nobody else at home; my mother had left to go grocery shopping, and my sister was sleeping. It's time to act! The kitchen was in front of me.  I entered and observed the cabinets, the oven, and the dishes in front of me. Although I had seen it before, this time it was closer to me. I chose to start my first experience as a cook by creating an omelette since I hadn't had breakfast. Sure, I'd seen my mother do it.

I set to work quietly so as not to wake my sister up. I took an egg, some tomatoes and onions. I knew the basics, so I began the work. I chopped the onions and tomatoes on the work surface.

The egg was waiting to be cracked in half. It took a couple of tries to get it open and into the bowl. The spices were brought out next. As most of you are aware, mothers always store spices on the top shelf of the cabinet. Whatever the logic, jumping to reach them is extremely inconvenient. I went to the hall and grabbed a stool after a failed attempt. After climbing the stool, I grabbed the chili powder and salt. I whisked the ingredients in the bowl with the egg. I turned on the stove, placed the large frying pan on it, and poured some oil into it.

Everything was going swimmingly until I poured the butter into the pan; then I wondered what was used to turn the egg upside down in the pan. I was soon running around the kitchen, searching all the cabinets for the cooking spoon while the omelette sizzled in the pan. I finally found the spoon and rushed to flip the omelette. I managed to do it without breaking or spilling it, only to discover a very nicely browned, or rather burnt, side up! Someone came up behind me as I was putting it on a plate. It was my mother. I was taken aback. She was furious when she saw the kitchen in such disarray.

She devised an appropriate punishment for me: I was to eat the burnt omelette. As I sat at the table, eating the omelette, I realized it wasn't as bad as it appeared. But now I can cook a perfect omelette.