Imagination in the Kitchen

As most of you already know, when I was seven, my parents made a move that would change my life; they opened a restaurant. They were hands-on restaurateurs, running on a tight budget, so my mother cooked while my father worked his day job and managed the restaurant at night. Being the youngest of five children, I was always attached to my parents, and while my brothers were perfectly content to stay home alone or with a babysitter, I refused to do so. The only option was to keep me in the kitchen, close to my mother while she worked.

At first, I was excited to be there and see the bustle of the kitchen. But after about one day, I was bored. I grew anxious and, like a typical seven-year old, began whining. Not knowing what else to do, my mother handed me a large stainless steel mixing bowl, positioned a large crate of sting beans at my feet and gave me a task that would keep me busy for hours.
“Snap these” she said, demonstrating how to removed the unwanted ends of the beans. “When they're clean, put them in this bowl.”
"How many should I do?” I asked, thinking that I would have to snap fifty or at most, one hundred.
“The entire case” my mom replied, returning to work behind the stove.

I looked at the box at my feet. There were at least a thousand beans in there. My eyes grew wide and I sighed heavily. The restaurant was ruining my life, but I knew if I kept complaining I’d be homebound with a babysitter, so I reached in the case and grabbed a handful of beans.
Though the work seemed daunting, I tackled it with finesse. As my tiny fingers worked rapidly, my mind reeled. I made up stories, pretended to be different characters; a lost princess held captive and forced to work kitchen duties; a farm girl responsible for the family dinner. Lost in thought, I didn’t realize that time had passed. Before long a huge pile of beans filled my bowl; I had finished the entire case and had had fun doing so.

Looking back, it's clear that my early time as an impromptu sous chef taught me an invaluable lesson; it taught me to use my imagination in the kitchen. Often I would see my mother experimenting, adding ingredients, tasting, stirring, and, sitting next to her with my pile of beans I’d pretend to be a chef doing the same.

Nowadays, I do not pretend to be someone I’m not, however, I still allow my mind to wander when faced with tasks that are so banal, like snapping string beans, that they require little attention or thought. During these moments, I’ll get inspired to throw a little extra spice into a dish, or mix ingredients that generally do not work well together. I’m no chef, just a home cook who allows her imagination to run wild. Sometimes I come out on top, and other times the food ends up half eaten or scraped into the garbage. But either way, I am successful, if I am able to relax, to experiment, and have fun. Which is really what cooking is all about anyway.

String Beans with Garlic and Mint

1 pound string beans
1 small clove of garlic (chopped)
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
2 tablespoons fresh mint (chopped)
salt and pepper to taste

Blanche sting beans in salted boiling water for 3 minutes. Drain and transfer into a salad bowl.
While beans are still warm, top with garlic, mint, olive oil and salt and pepper. Toss together and serve.