The teenagers I teach at church came over last week to hold a little cooking class. I work with the 16 and 17 year olds, and we’re always trying to think of something to do that will prepare them for life on their own while still being interesting for them now. When we started talking about doing a cooking unit, they were totally on board. (I love that my hand is blurred in this picture. If you’ve ever held a conversation with me, you know that my hand flailing to word count ratio is about even.)
We made a little rice pilaf and we went over knife skills and a mirepoix. It was just so darn much fun to see their enthusiasm. When I showed them how to microwave a lemon to get the most juice out, and then squeezed it onto the rice, I got a wave of literal oohs and aahs. I just adore this group of girls, they have it so together, so much talent and maturity. It’s like they’re all just waiting, with watches checked and toes tapping, until they’re old enough to strike out on their own and get on with what they’re capable of already.