Yesterday my eight-year-old wanted me to make more raw date coconut balls, "but like the time you made them without the dates." I was busy, so I suggested she make them herself and I would tell her how. They are very simple, mix a ton of stuff together, squish it and roll it into a ball. She was careful to measure each thing out, give her smaller brother suitable jobs, and she used her judgment when it came to adding more or less of something needed.
She asked for help to open a few jars, but other than that, it was her work that made each one.
Cooking starts somewhere, I remember taking frozen pie crusts and dumping canned peaches into them to make pie. I was so thrilled that I could do it all by myself.
I'm excited to see her in the kitchen, mixing ingredients, working to make something.
It was a simple task, yet it is the beginning of so much.