As a woman from Maryland raised by Louisiana-grown parents, I have a desire for only the best tasting food with the most distinct flavors. I remember at five years of age my father would drop me off at the babysitter and I would cry. At that age you would think tantrums were the cause but no, it was my babysitter. She failed to properly season her food. I remember watching her cook a meal for her family; baked chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green beans. Not bad right? Wrong! I walked up to her as she was cooking and asked, “Where is the salt and why don’t you put the stuff that my Mama puts in her food?” She laughed, but I was serious.
During the Summer and Winter breaks of my childhood, I would spend time in Louisiana with my family. To say that food was the thing that brought my family together is an understatement. I would walk into each family member’s home only to be greeted by an aroma that was like a kiss of blessings on my nose, and I loved it. I would eat until I was full, wait an hour and eat more. I would do this in every home that I would visit so, needless to say, I was an overweight child and young adult. I really didn’t care about my size at the time because with every bite of yummy goodness I felt absolutely loved. This posed a real problem as I was equating good flavors to love and that should not be the case. I should have focused on how each item on my plate was negatively impacting my body.