Rebekah, A History

Before I begin food blogging for real, I thought I'd lay bare my culinary background. It's not very impressive, but here goes.

I'm the youngest of five children, and the next youngest child is six years older than me, and the oldest is 11 years older than me. Apparently my mom used to cook a lot when my siblings were younger, but that might be a myth. Either way, by the time I came around, my mom having the time and energy to cook was a rare thing. Potato soup and stroganoff stick out the most in my memory as far as my favorite things my mom made. My dad, however, cooked a lot when I was growing up. He was a little more prone to experimenting, which sometimes ended really well and sometimes ended very, very badly. However, he is still a great cook and makes THE most amazing chili on the planet. Chili night was always a good night at the Mills house, except that one time my dad put Chinese orange beef seasoning in it. Every other time, though, mmmmmmmm.

I didn't have a LOT of opportunity to cook until most of my siblings had left home, and by that time I had gained a few skills. I could make Koolaid, ramen, macaroni and cheese, canned soup, spaghetti, and, of course, sandwiches! My teenage years were somewhat more successful. I learned and adapted a pretty amazing salsa recipe from one of my piano teachers (why I was learning how to make salsa instead of play Beethoven stems from the fact that I never practiced piano). I worked in the kitchens of three restaurants: McDonalds, Red Robin, and Boston's Pizza.

I briefly toyed with the idea of going to culinary school, until I realized that working in kitchens SUCKS and I didn't want to do it. Instead I took a trip to Germany through my college last summer and ate some pretty awesome food there, some of which I have tried to recreate since returning with varying degrees of success. Protip: translating recipes isn't as easy as it sounds. After getting back, I met a fellow named Nathan who turned out to be super awesome, and we started hanging out. One day, I went to his house for dinner and ate some pretty tasty stir fry. The next time I went over, the dinner was equally delicious. One day, Nathan made me a sandwich on this REALLY delicious bread his mom makes and I immediately fell in love with him (there were other factors, but the sandwich was the tipping point). Cut to a while later and we're engaged! Woohoo!

A cold chill settled over my heart one day, as I realized that his mom was a really good cook and I could never hope to compare. My future husband would surely starve to death on a diet of macaroni and cheese and Progresso soup. My mother-in-law took pity on me (or on Nathan) and started showing me the ropes. In just a few months I added a great many things to my repertoire: biscuits, garlic cheddar biscuits, Funfetti cookies, peach crisp, black beans and rice from scratch, dinner rolls, zuppa toscana (like the kind from Olive Garden but WAY better), and the list goes on. At one point I realized... hey, I'm not so bad at this cooking thing. Maybe I WON'T be such a terrible wife.

Then we got married and moved far away from our families to a little town called Rexburg, Idaho. Why, do you ask? Because BYU-Idaho is here, and Nathan can go to school at a discounted price. Either way, I'm all on my own out here. Armed with a bunch of cookbooks and a collection of aprons, we set forth on our journey towards culinary nirvana, or something like that but not as stupid-sounding. Basically, I just want to make tasty, healthy meals (tasty takes priority if I have to choose) that Nathan likes to eat. Here goes nothin'.