A word from Jack
Hello all and welcome to Cook with Jack. My name is Jack and I am the creator, photographer and cook for my blog Cook with Jack. This blog was started in 2013 with hopes of documenting my recipes and sharing inspiring dishes. I will try to post at least once a week, so if you enjoy reading what’s on the blog you can subscribe to my RSS Feed for future articles and recipes. The recipes I post will come from different sources such as magazines, food blogs and more, so the ones that do come from these sources I will credit in the post. If you have any questions, comments or would like to make a guest post please contact me. I hope you enjoy!
A word from Karin (Jack’s wife)
I don’t know why it took my husband and me so long to start a food blog, after all Jack and I are self proclaimed ‘foodies’. Food and cooking has been an integral part of our lives since we met nearly thirteen years ago. However, it wasn’t until we gained our freedom by purchasing our first home in 2007 that we had free reign to make whatever our little hearts desired and boy did we!
Cooking is in my blood. My father was a classically trained chef and owned his own restaurant in Toronto for thirty-five years. The memories I treasure are standing next to him on a quiet Sunday morning as he prepped for the week ahead. I watched with delight as he composed his mise en plus, with admiration as he mixed a bowl of meringue batter, and in horror as he placed the live lobsters in a pot of boiling water. Friends and family knew my father was a chef and would always say ‘oh you’re lucky, you must eat the most amazing food ALL the time’, they couldn’t have been more wrong. Like most chef’s the restaurant consumed my father. He spent more time with his staff and guests than with his family. Case in point my first words were ‘bye bye daddy’. The cooking was left to my mom but she too worked in ‘the restaurant’ as much as my father, so my sister and I made our own dinner, which usually included peanut butter and jelly. Although my home was filled with love, eating was sadly a means to an end, a chore that had to get done. It lacked the joy and connection that the dinner table should bring.
It was then a welcome change when I met my husband Jack and I was graciously accepted by his family. It was in his home that I was introduced to a ‘family-style dinner’. Jack’s parents were born and raised in Lebanon but their heritage was Armenian. His mom’s style of cooking was completely different from my mom’s. She carefully formed her tikka and gehma kabob. Beautifully carved a well in a bowl of hummus and shook cumin and dried mint along its edges finishing it with a rich olive oil. Her style of cooking was perhaps slightly more refined and delicate than what I was used too. As good as the food was it was only secondary to the company that surrounded me. The importance of ‘the dinner table’ became clear to me in those early years.