Chef Alice Alice

It was a rainy September day, and I was saying goodbye to my home. In 23 years of life, I had been through every single day with my mother; the first unbalanced but eager steps, doing homework in the kitchen whilst she was cooking one of her usual feasts, Saturday afternoons of blockbuster movies and cheese pop-corn, holidays, birthdays, boring days of grocery shopping (which actually, were probably my favorite kind of days.) We were always together.

But I had decided to follow my dream; a dream that was taking me on the other side of the world, to New York City; and then London, LA and finally Salt lake City. Everything felt unfamiliar, foreign; I didn't belong anywhere. But then, I found myself again in one, no so unexpected, place: the kitchen. What my mom taught me was that cooking, preparing meals for family and friends, was a way to express love; a love that made me feel at home.

So, I started cooking, But not just preparing food. I studied the craft, I tried different ingredients, experimented with new combinations, calling mom more and more to ask her about her secrets and tricks of the trade, and sharing with her new amazing recipes I discovered. It felt like we were closer again. But most of all, I cooked for my loved ones. Feeding people was my way of saying I love you. And that is exactly what I needed: an outlet for all the love I had in me, that I couldn't pour onto my mother anymore. Food has been our light and our saving grace; our way to say I love you, our home away from home. And this is why we want to share it with the rest of the world.

Food is our eternal, unbreakable bond; it's the hug we give each other every time we are reunited, and the goodbye in tears, always knowing we will be together again soon, one way or the other.