A little story about my kitchen...
- M.
- Feb 24, 2015
- 2 min read

Hi everyone! I'm sure you've gathered what my name is, and also the fact that I have a kitchen. A slightly messy, well-used and loved kitchen. Until about two years ago (precisely June 2013), I never really cooked because I lived with the world’s best cook - my mummy <3. The most I did was “assisted” with mummy’s cooking shenanigans, which was basically prepping and lots of washing up. My mum loves dinner parties and we have a HUGE family so there was always a lot of stuff happening in the kitchen, although the main part of it was never in my hands. Surprisingly I never really “learnt” to cook because I didn’t think I’d need to cook – doh! Such a blonde! (I’m not a blonde though, fyi). But I picked up some stuff, which went into my memory unconsciously.
So in June 2013, I got married, moved out and into my husband’s apartment with his unused and unloved kitchen. He’s not much of a chef, however that means when I mess up, he still eats whatever I serve – YAY! I will on the other hand give him credit for his amazing cups of tea and coffee, mwah! Anyway, since I didn’t always have mummy’s food around (although I got tonnes of take-away whenever I visited her), I had to actually start cooking. We moved out of the apartment (the kitchen was cute though), and into a house. I now have a beautiful, big kitchen where I create my concoctions. I’m still learning and I tend to stick to easy-ish recipes but I also really enjoy it. The kitchen calms me. Well lets rephrase that; MY kitchen calms me, and I love it.
I recently started an Instagram account of my cooking; and I randomly decided I was going to start a blog today. And hey-ho, here's the first post!
ps. Those cookies in the picture were abso-freaking-loutely amazing. Would anyone like a blong post on the recipe?
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