Where does passion begin? Do we stumble upon a likeable situation that turns into something more? Or do certain childhood situations make way for bigger things? I believe it’s the latter. I think that in the process of nurturing our hearts and souls, our families nurture our passions as well.
One of my fondest and very vivid earliest memories is that of Santa making a late night visit to my home. He brought me an Easy Bake Oven. I know it sounds cliché, but that little plastic appliance started my love of cooking. I looked forward to baking little delights as often as possible. Looking back, I find it very impressive to have turned out such tasty delights from a low wattage light bulb.
Before long I was cooking in the real oven. I longed for the holidays when I could practice my new dishes on my relatives. They raved about anything I made, as families often do. And there they were, fanning the passion flame. My grandmother bought me my first cookbook and passed on stacks of recipes on yellowed index cards. From there I developed specialties. Now when the holidays rolled around I actually had requests! Then I moved onto the family parties. Showers, baptisms, graduations, birthdays, anniversary’s, I cooked for them all. Our gatherings became known for good food in large quantities. When I met Mike he was subjected to my family’s praise of my food. Being the competitive person that he is, he tried and succeeded in out doing me. And so there I was, fanning the passion flame.
Who knew that all that nurturing, praise, and love would lead us to competition BBQ. Thanks for all the support.
In Memory of my Grandmother Edith Eastman