Tyra Banks enrolls herself in a Culinary Institute of America course to learn to cook for her child
Tyra Banks took to Facebook yesterday to tell her fans about her latest endeavor: an intensive Boot Camp at the Culinary Institute of America in St. Helena. If you’ve never heard of CIA, it’s a very well respected cooking school where future chefs are trained.
Tyra enrolled herself in the course because by her own admission, she’s “never been one to be very excited about cooking.”
“I have never been one to be very excited about cooking,” she admits. “I put all of my energy into my work and to succeeding, so instead of cooking, I eat at restaurants all the time, order in, or defrost frozen food in my microwave. That all changed the day my son was born.”
Tyra admits she’s never been that in to cooking, but that now that she has a child, she wants all that to change: “I do not want him to grow up thinking that cooking is what happens only in fancy or fast food restaurants. I do not want the only cooking he witnesses to be when he turns on his television and sees famous chefs create masterpieces.”
It’s going to be a hard day when she realizes her toddler doesn’t give a shit about her culinary course and repeatedly begins demanding spaghetti with butter.
“I want to be his chef. I want him to go to college and miss his MOMMY’S masterpieces. I want all of his friends to be fighting to come to his house to sample his mother’s culinary creations.”
That is so sweet. But don’t despair when your child begins tossing his food on the floor — no matter how good it is. And if you never get the fancy cooking down, don’t worry about that either. It’s not the recipe that makes mom’s cooking so great. It’s that it’s mom’s cooking.
My mother is an amazing cook, my father was too. But there are some dishes that I remember that were just… not good. My father passed several years ago, but do you know what happens when my mom makes her terribly overcooked broccoli that dissolves when you put a fork in it? I gobble it up, because it reminds me of my childhood.
If someone ever handed me two pieces of toasted wheat bread made almost rock hard by sitting in a brown lunch bag for hours, with only spicy mustard and giant slices of butcher salami that I could barely get my teeth through, I would tear into it and probably weep, even though it’s pretty much the worst school lunch you could ever pack a kid. Why? Because it reminds me of a time when someone else was packing my lunch.
Don’t ever feel bad about your culinary skills, your kid’s going to spend years refusing to eat anything you cook anyway. And if you never conquer cooking, your child will still remember those dishes you do make (even if they aren’t CIA-worthy) and be attached to the memories of them — because they were made by you.