As a busy professional, I’ve cut cable from my life for about six years now. While I barely miss it most of the time, I do find myself craving cooking shows every now and then. The joy of flipping through food channels used to be a cherished pastime, one I don’t get to indulge in anymore. However, during a recent family trip, we had access to cable, and I stumbled upon a marathon of a kids’ cooking competition.
I assumed it would be a delightful hour filled with adorable children whipping up treats like grilled cheese and cake pops. I envisioned one of them, perhaps a little Ava or Leo, triumphantly presenting a dish like lasagna roll-ups while talking about how they would use their prize money to treat their family to a fun vacation. But then, reality kicked in.
These kids were not just making simple dishes; they were scaling fish, tossing around terms like béchamel, and crafting their own pasta from scratch—without even glancing at a recipe! Meanwhile, I sat on the couch of our hotel room, indulging in macaroni and cheese straight from the pot, feeling a wave of inadequacy wash over me.
Watching these pint-sized chefs, who could barely reach the counter without climbing onto their parents, made me painfully aware of my own culinary shortcomings. I remembered my own attempts at cooking as a child: the Mother’s Day truffles I made with M&M’s and a questionable understanding of confectioners sugar. Those early efforts were charmingly disastrous, and now, they felt like mere child’s play compared to the feats these kids were accomplishing.
Where did they learn these skills? Did they have gourmet chefs as relatives? Was there a secret school curriculum devoted to culinary mastery? While I struggled to crack an egg without making a mess, they were crafting cream puffs and emulsifying sauces like seasoned pros.
What struck me most was not just their talent but their kindness. These little chefs supported one another, offering help when someone was in trouble, and showed genuine emotion when a contestant was eliminated. This was a far cry from the cutthroat reality shows I expected. If I were in their shoes, I’d likely be rolling my eyes and giving side-eye to anyone who annoyed me. Instead, these kids displayed a level of maturity that left me feeling even more inadequate.
It’s not so much that I’m upset at their talents. I don’t mind child prodigies in music or academics. But when it comes to the culinary arts, they are outperforming me in what I once thought was my domain. I don’t invade their classrooms to showcase my expertise in eye-rolling or belting out pop songs. Can’t they stick to being awesome at their crafts and leave me to my mediocre cooking?
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In summary, watching that children’s cooking competition not only left me feeling like a culinary underachiever but also forced me to confront my own self-doubt. These kids are not only talented but kind, and they certainly made me reassess my own skills—both in the kitchen and in life.