The fondest memories I have from my childhood were very scattered. However, whether it be game night with the family, a lively party, or even just a good ole’ holiday, there was always one thing in common. The amazing spread of food my mom provided. The plates and bowls of her signature dishes and the endless array of snacks were inevitably grand. Every time I would tell her, “Mommy, we don’t need that much!!” but she insisted with a loud, “Well I want to!”

Food took up a large portion of my childhood. Whenever I wasn’t at school or gymnastics practice, you would find me in the kitchen with my mother. If you looked through my explore page on instagram, you would find food video upon food video with the occasional dog or gymnastics clip. For a long time I thought that that was a normal thing that everyone did. Then one morning after a sleepover with a close friend of mine, I did what any 21st century born person would do first thing they got up. I went on my phone… Then went straight to Food Network’s program on Snapchat. My friend looked over my shoulder to see what was up. She looked at me.
“That’s the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning?” she asked.

“Yeahhh?”

And that’s when I found out I was, what people would call, a foodie (foo?die, “foo-dee” noun, informal. A person with a particular interest in food; a gourmet). I wasn’t embarrassed of the title. In fact, I wore it with pride. When all of my adventurous friends were skeptical of a new food, I was the first person they would call. Want to know the newest health trend in the food world? I’m here!!

As much as I loved to cook, I was a sucker for sugar. My sweet tooth was one that could never be cured; a disease with no remedy. My favorite days were the ones when I came home from school and the smell of cookies fresh from the oven hit me as soon as I walked in the door. I knew right then that it was going to be a good night. No matter how sucky gymnastics practice would be later or how many projects my teachers burdened on me at school, at the end of the day, I could sit down and eat one of the best. cookies. ever.

It’s been so long since we have made them, but I can still remember the way they tasted. How they rose in the oven in such a way that they weren’t as fluffy as a cake but not so dense like a brownie. How it wasn’t crispy or chewy, but soft and velvety with just the right amount of bite. And the flavor, oh the flavor! They weren’t too sweet like lots of cookies are, nor were they trying too hard to be something that they weren’t. They were buttery with notes of whatever you taste when you hear the word “cookie”. It finishes with the aftertaste of the warm semisweet chocolate chips that melt in your mouth as soon as they hit your tongue.

When my mom finally thought I was old enough to handle the secret recipe, she taught me how to create the magic behind the cookie. That’s also when I learned the secret to great food. It’s all about the attention to detail; the rigorous steps it takes to bake it perfectly and the quality of the ingredients. First, dark chocolate discs were ordered then shipped from New York. Next, the butter was none other than Italian. And the rest, well… if I shared that it wouldn’t be much of a secret Sander recipe.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. I am so lucky to have had a childhood so laden with sugary delicacies and home-cooked meals. But here’s the plot twist. My mother -- the one who makes grand spreads at friendly get-togethers and makes 4 batches of cookies in a matter of hours-- is a nutritionist. Say what?! Craaazy, right? But, it isn’t.

My mother’s philosophy went like this; we should always have our health in mind when we choose what we put in our bodies. However, the key to a healthy lifestyle is a balance. Treat yourself every once in awhile. You have a craving? Fulfill it!(in moderation) You can’t deprive yourself of the things you love. Or as my mother would put it, “You want to be healthy, but you still have to live your life.”

Along with this, she also taught me the truth behind “healthy foods”. The first lesson: not all foods labeled “sugar/fat/etc. free” are healthy. It’s a scam. A little trickery that the grocers like to play so that they can appeal to a large and growing audience of people interested in eating healthy (but are too clueless to know to look at the nutrition facts). The second lesson: not all healthy meals and snacks are “gross” or “healthy-tasting” like it is falsely translated by many. Before learning any of this, my mother was feeding our family bolognese once a week (meat-sauce spaghetti). I had no idea it was healthy nor did I care (5-year-old me didn’t care for her diet). Little did I know, my mother was using ground turkey and sneaking in tinily diced up veggies. None of our family even noticed.

These days when I see my friends eating whole pints of ice cream in one sitting, I don’t judge externally, but on the inside I cringe, for I know the damage behind their acts. Its moments like these that make me thankful for my knowledge of processed foods and saturated fats. Thankful that my mother taught me how to live, not only a life that’s healthy but also one that’s lived to the fullest. Because although when she said that we shouldn’t constantly be worrying about out health and should treat ourselves sometimes, to me, it meant more than that.
Ever since I was young, I took myself so seriously. I had high aspirations in life; expectations for myself that I didn’t want to meet, but needed to. I hear her words when the pressure I put on myself gets so intense, I want to give up. I hear her words when I feel frustrated and just want to cry. It’s times like these when I have tell myself, it’s okay to have a cookie sometimes.