For most of my life, and even now, I relied on others to make me food. Generally, the people making the food would be my parents, aunt, or my oldest sister. At last, it felt nice eating something I made. The cooked batter with the taste of maple being munched in my mouth had me feeling like I was in another world.

It was 5th grade. The holiday break was just around the corner. The outside was fridged. The tree was starting to be filled with gifts underneath. I was with my sister that day, doing nothing but pushing our homework aside for the TV. I was getting peckish. But, my mom wasn’t home at the time, and my sister didn’t know what to have. An unfortunate time since we didn’t have much experience with cooking. I tried ignoring my hunger but I got desperate. “What is there to eat?” No leftovers were there, and options on what I can cook were extremely basic. 

Then, I noticed some milk that was almost past its prime. Not wanting to waste anything, I snatched it out of the fridge and look in the pantry for more ingredients. I took a glance at a red box of Aunt Jemima Pancake Mix and had an idea of what to cook for myself. “I hope I don’t burn down the kitchen.” I chuckled but was also slightly nervous that I wasn’t able to make pancakes.

I looked far and wide for any measurement tools but had a realization that my family had none. Bummer. So, I had to use my best judgment to guess if I had a good milk-to-batter ratio and started mixing and stirring the two ingredients together. The clumps that wouldn’t mix in was particularly bothersome, but all was well with the process. The batter was ready for cooking and it was time to start cooking!

The burner emitted a bright red, and I placed a pan on top. I cut off a piece of butter and dropped it on the pan, seeing it melt. I rushed to the batter and dripped it onto the pan, smelling the sweet aroma and watching the batter turn a deep brown color. And once I knew it, I had a big stack of pancakes for dinner (or would it be an early dessert?). 

My sister came down to check what I was doing, taking note of the scent in the air. 

“Bro, is that a stack of pancakes I see right there?” to which I nodded and allowed her to have some. That night, I felt rewarded. The pancakes were so good, with a nice hint of maple to top it off. It wasn’t that hard to make looking back, but I can’t describe what accomplishment I had achieved. Even the smallest of events feel satisfying.