Summer in DC – We all gotta eat.

This summer is undoubtably a learning experience. Whether that’s learning how to navigate the metro, or how to fact-check an article for publication, or even … how to feed yourself. You would think that, by the age of 19, I would have developed some skills that would at least take me beyond Lean Cuisine and PB&J sandwiches. And you would be wrong. This is one area where I am completely lacking, but it’s not for lack of effort on the part of my family. Before I left for DC, my mom loaded me up with simple and quick meal ideas while my dad emptied half the contents of our pantry into my suitcase. Since I would have neither my parents nor my meal plan, I think they were both seriously concerned that I would starve. And honestly … so was I.

Walking into Giant the first night I arrived was intimidating. I was essentially starting from scratch—there wouldn’t be food in the fridge unless I put it there myself. But after a minute or two, I eased into it. I started with the basics, namely milk, cheese, bread and Oreos. I challenged myself to avoid the freezer isle, which was MUCH harder than I anticipated. It was so tempting to resort to Stouffers entrees, but I knew I couldn’t sustain myself on frozen dinners. But I thought about my mom’s advice and reminded myself that feeding myself wasn’t really that hard. Soon enough, my cart was full of fresh fruits and veggies, pasta, chicken and rice. I left the grocery store with an armful of bags and new found confidence in my cooking abilities.

My next hurdle was realizing that just because I had the ingredients didn’t mean I could cook. My first attempt was pasta, where it took me an entire half hour just to boil the water (I didn’t have a lid and put in too much salt). To top it off, my inexperience with a gas stove had me convinced I was going to burn down the entire apartment building. I couldn’t help but think that I was utterly incapable of functioning as an adult, and resorted to cereal and sandwiches for the rest of the week while I nursed my bruised ego.

But now, I’ve started to get the hang of it. I made scrambled eggs for breakfast yesterday instead of my usual toast. Tonight I grilled chicken with pesto and Parmesan cheese with a small salad on the side. For tomorrow, I have all the ingredients to tackle a stir-fry. Dish by dish, my confidence increases, and I’ve begun to branch out in my meal selections. There’s something exciting about coming back to the apartment and cooking something totally new. What’s even more exciting is realizing that your meal doesn’t even taste that bad. Of course I have a long way to go (as far as I know, no one considers scrambled eggs a culinary masterpiece), but at least it’s a start. I’m excited to see how my skills will improve as the summer progresses. But I’m even more excited to realize I won’t have to rely on Easy Mac and Chef Boyardee.