My mother cooked as an artistic outlet; growing up, I had little interest in learning to cook and treading into my mother's domain. My parents owned a Mediterranean fusion style restaurant as well, making food a huge part of our lives. It was not until I moved out on my own that I discovered my own love of cooking and though my style is totally different from that of my mother's, I see it as a relaxing outlet as well. I am a foodie, and proud of it. New things! Really! I love to explore the myriad food stuffs and the multitude of broadly varying preparations. Too many to count, but I have to say rich, cheese-based desserts are a family specialty. Also, growing up, my mother would have baking days and pasta days. I learned early kneading dough is very cathartic! She would let us children play with our own balls of dough. We made some really tough fettuccine and some dense dry bread, but the memories we made far outlasted the less then perfect products. Converting a family recipe for tiramisu into the perfect modernized (eggs fully cooked)version that even my mother uses over the old one! Making a chocolate souffle that did not fall. My first perfectly timed, six course meal. My first attempt at gravy...I was helping my mother as a young girl and the gravy was not thickening as fast as I thought it should. I thought her recipe was a mistype, surely it wasn't just 2 tbsp for a whole pan of drippings. I kept adding cornstarch until the gravy suddenly seized up, I couldn't even remove the whisk. It gets worse...I tried to dispose of my brick before it was discovered. I sliced and cut loose what I could from the pan with a fillet knife...and gummed up the garbage disposal so badly we had to call a repair man.