I like to cook. Since my youth, I have studied and cooked my way through all kinds of food. My mother as dear as she was, couldn’t cook. I should say she cooked for my dad. And all he liked was meat and potatoes. I started watching cooking shows on TV. My mom was a school teacher and didn’t have much time to prepare food. We were raised catholic and didn’t eat meat on Fridays. Mom fixed pimento and cheese sandwiches. I can’t stand them. To this day I don’t eat pimento and cheese, ever. As I developed my skill as a cook, mom would let me cook the evening meal. Dad, when he knew I cooked, would say he didn’t like. When he didn’t know I cooked, he loved it. So, mom and I didn’t tell him for a long time. My skill improved steadily. I can cook most anything and bake also. When my wife and I were 1st married, she was glad I could cook because she didn’t. She has come a long way and learned how to cook. But I can cook rings around her. Food has always been the core of family life. My grandmother would always ask me if I was hungry when I went to her house. Because no one was going to leave her home hungry. She lived through the depression and raised a family. They didn’t have much but always shared what they had with anyone. Mom and her sisters learn it. That heritage I learned from my family is that the gift of hospitality is about giving to those in need. And I can still out cook my wife.