Question

Write a composition in approximately 350 – 400 words on the following subject:

(You are reminded that you will be rewarded for orderly and coherent presentation of material, use of appropriate style and general accuracy of spelling, punctuation, and grammar.)

Narrate an incident from your own experience when you helped someone to prepare a meal.
Explain what you did and what you gained from this experience.

Answer 1

My mother used to put an invisible 'stop' sign in the kitchen when I was a kid. She often told me, No, you can't come in here!' I don't blame her; it's not a safe environment for children.

I was merely left standing outdoors in amazement of the kitchen's magnificence. After a few years, I developed a strong interest in food, both eating and cooking it. Nonetheless, I couldn't experiment with cooking because the kitchen was still off-limits. But they couldn't hold me back indefinitely, could they?

It was early in the morning, and no one else was at home because my mother had gone grocery shopping and my sister was fast sleeping. Now is the time to strike! I snuck into the dining room and found myself in front of the kitchen! I walked in and marvelled at the sight in front of me: cupboards towering like skyscrapers, the oven towering beside one wall, and the dishes gleaming like diamonds. I had seen it from the outside before, but this time it was up near and personal. I chose to start my first experience as a cook by creating an omelette because I hadn't had breakfast yet. Sure, I'd seen Mom do it before, so how difficult could it be?

To avoid waking up my sister, I began working softly. I had an egg, tomatoes, and onions on hand. I started working because I knew the essentials. On the work area, I chopped the onions the way I'd seen chefs do it. Then there were the tomatoes. I started by washing them and then slicing them. I cut my finger this time, and it was a disaster. Ouch! Although there was no bleeding, the pain was just as intense.

This minor nudge did not deter me, and after a few minutes of moaning, I was able to get back on my feet. The egg awaited its fate, which was to be split in half. It took a couple of tries to get it open and into the basin. After it came to the spices. As most of you are aware, mothers always keep spices on the cabinet's top shelf. Whatever the logic, jumping to get to them is quite inconvenient. I went to the hall and took a stool after a futile attempt. I grabbed the chilli powder and salt after going to the stool. I mixed the contents together in the bowl with the egg. I lit the stove and poured a cup of coffee.

Everything was going perfectly until I poured the batter into the pan - then I questioned what was used to turn the egg upside down in the pan. I was soon frantically searching all of the kitchen cupboards for the cooking spoon, all the while the omelette sizzled in the pan. Finally, I located the spoon and rushed to flip the omelette. I did it without breaking or pouring it out of the pan, only to find it perfectly browned, or rather scorched, on the other side!

Someone approached me from behind as I was putting it on a plate. It turned out to be a mother. I was taken aback. She was enraged to discover the kitchen in shambles, with drawers strewn open and salt and chilli powder strewed about the burners and counter.

She devised an appropriate punishment for me-  I was to consume the charred omelette. I realised it wasn't as horrible as it appeared when I sat at the table eating the omelette. My first culinary attempt was a fiasco, and now I'm getting a taste of my own medicine... well, omelette. But I was pleased with my achievement.