I am a twenty-something, curly-haired, Christian wife to a wonderful man, living in Michigan (as I have my whole life). I am currently unemployed, and have been taking advantage of some of my extra free time to learn how to do more baking and cooking from scratch, with an ever-opening mind to doing things more "healthfully" - using whole grains, more fresh produce, etc. There are so many health benefits to it - both physically and emotionally. I like to bake. A lot. Muffins, quick breads, scones, biscuits, brownies, cookies, other desserts (especially fruity ones). I am currently learning how to make yeast breads. My family is not very big on traditions, except for a few years when we had a quiet Thanksgiving dinner all by ourselves - mom and three daughters doing all the cooking together. No super-special family recipes, really. But I do have my mother to thank for letting me and a friend into the kitchen quite a few times as kids to bake cookies or whatever. That's probably where my love of baking comes from - those special memories. I can't think of any specific food situation that was a real triumph that I had to work for. I am just encouraged by the frequent compliments I get from my husband and others for the things I bake and cook for us. Recent favorites have been "Whole Wheat & Nuts Muffins," "Grandma Johnson's Scones," "Black Bottom Cupcakes I," and the fun that hubby and I had making a pizza from scratch together - crust and sauce included! (Recipes not on this site.) Back when my husband was my boyfriend of less than a year, we would often share dinner - taking turns cooking. One cold Winter day I had some extra free time and thought I'd cook up some sort of a hearty bean soup. I don't remember what sort of recipe I was working with, I just remember that about half way through cooking it (after even taking the extra time to soak the dried beans, etc), I tasted it, and it was awful. But he was going to be showing up soon! With no garbage disposal in the sink, how was I to hide the evidence of this failed pot of warm beany goo? Well, the apartment I lived in had an unfinished, unheated room that opened off of the kitchen, and since it was a cold day, I just grabbed the whole pot, set it in there, and closed the door. And didn't do anything else with it (frozen solid as it became) for a week or so. Yuck. I probably just whipped up some Hamburger Helper or something for us to eat that night. So much for impressing him with my cooking skills.