My mother and both grandmothers are phenomenal cooks, so I have been tooling around in the kitchen since I was four or five years old. I always had the most admiration for the things they could do, but it wasn't until I got older that I really started to appreciate them... I don't remember what the occasion was. I was working on something or other and discovered we were out of buttermilk. Mom showed me how to make it myself with a tablespoon of vinegar (or lemon juice!). "But won't it be different?" I asked anxiously. "No, it'll be just fine. Everything doesn't have to be just perfect." That was some of the best advice I've ever gotten. I am still a super stressed-out ultra-perfectionist today, but I realize now that I don't have to be, and it's okay not to follow the recipe and improvise a little. Thank you, Mom. It means the world to me.

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