Changing Leaves: Scrambled eggs and chocolate chip cookies

In my mind, I associate cooking with adulthood, and adulthood with nourishing the self. When it comes to baking, I suck. I suck so badly that my mom is often tasked with saving what is sometimes the sixth batch of rock-solid cookies. There is no other way to put it. I am the absolute worst baker to have ever walked this planet. Cheesecake? Tasted like straight-up cheese. Cookies? I’ve never made them right. But, I do make a mean cake from a box. 

I’m a decent cook—tacos, sweet and sour chicken, and odd salads being my best work. Social media, TV shows, and even TikTok have always shown the “it girl”—a girl with her life together, who can cook and clean for herself, dress in the trendiest clothes, and get the highest praise at school and work. I want to be an “it girl” but I’m not. 

I originally planned to write this piece about how badly I make chocolate chip cookies—emphasizing how unchanged and unskilled I am in some aspects of life. But I also wanted to mention my killer scrambled eggs, and how, as fallible beings, we can “master” some parts of our day-to-day, while not being great at others. Well, today I failed at making scrambled eggs. I failed so badly that I made an omelette. Talk about misunderstanding the assignment. 

I still associate growing up with being able to cook for myself. Though, I’m beginning to realize that being an adult doesn’t mean being close to perfect. Being an adult, turning over a page, and watching the seasons go by isn’t a matter of being all-knowledgeable. It’s a matter of integrity, ownership, and willpower. My chocolate chips cookies need a lot of work, and my scrambled eggs could use some more care, but part of growing up is pushing yourself back into the kitchen (not that women belong there!) and trying again. I’ll keep trying until my cookies are perfectly round, soft, and warm.