The skill of free-measuring

aka, eyeballing; a lost art form.

It’s been a while since I’ve sat down and written an entry. Life has been so busy and so airtight. As of recently, the primary times I’m cooking are late at night, typically for the next day, or meal prepping on the weekends. Which has consisted of free-measuring and seeing what I can use before I need to make a trip to the grocery store (which at this point, has become scarcer than usual). This is one of the many articles I began to write, then got distracted by some life task.

I guess I write this as a thank you? I’m not sure, anywho!

a beautiful, unmeasured salad feat. smashed baked sweet potatoes, farro, roasted red onions, kale, avocado, and a parsley dressing.

When I was a kid…

my family cooked at home most nights. From a very early age, I wanted to help and partake in what my family would make. I remember always being told to just watch and be patient.

And man, that was one of the greatest lessons and gifts I could’ve received. It’s something important 1. in life, but 2. especially in the kitchen.

side note: Some of my first memories of cooking as a kid were sticking my arm in the oven when baking cookies with my mom (no one was harmed, but jumpscares did occur), and accidentally cutting my finger when cutting green onions. I was probably five or six….so it checks out.

I learned how to cook through my eyes, to feel what is right and enough.

My Siti rarely used measurements, which she passed to my dad, who always receives a phone call when I make a family recipe. I usually just need the reassurance of how much of something I need to use.

For example: do I need a pinch, a handful, quite a bit, or not a lot?

Those are the measurement terms my family uses.

Now, growing up, I did a lot of baking. Like, a lot….And you HAVE to measure in baking.

Baking is science, cooking is theatre.

Because of that, it helped me be able to equivocate measurement sizes and eyeballing. For example, if you and I were cooking together, and you said you needed a cup of rice, my heart, and my eyes will know how much to wash.

(PSA: please wash your rice, thanks)

this is an actual picture I sent to my mom…I was meal-prepping and technically at work before a rehearsal.

In this season of my life, cooking is one of my biggest outlets for caring for myself. It’s literally fueling my body, I can turn off my brain, and I get to create a meal based on either what I have, or to reflect a feeling in what I want to eat. And there will be no measuring of any sort…if that wasn’t clear from this entire submission.

With love,

Cara