When I was growing up, my mum was always calling me into the kitchen. "Come and learn," she'd say. Most times, I'd find one excuse or another. I wasn't interested. In my mind, cooking was something I could always pay someone else to do, so learning felt like a waste of time. Looking back, I realise I wasn't rejecting cooking. I was rejecting a life skill whose value I simply couldn't see. For years, that decision didn't seem to matter. Then life changed. I started living in places where I couldn't find the meals I had grown up eating. At first, I blamed the food. I complained that it didn't taste right and convinced myself that nobody could cook those dishes the way my mum did. Eventually, I had to face an uncomfortable truth. The food wasn't the problem. I was. I had never learned how to cook the meals I loved. That realisation changed the way I looked at those evenings in the kitchen. I had always assumed my mum was trying to teach me re...