My cooking history began at 4:30 one morning when I was very small. I had awakened to the smell of the stuffing my mom was making from scratch for Thanksgiving turkey. The scent of celery and onion sautéing in butter was irresistible and I just had to get up, walk through the dark living room to the bright kitchen and check it out. I got to stir up the filling for the pumpkin pies. I do know the first eggs I ever cracked were for pumpkin pie filling, and that I had a tremendous sense of satisfaction from not messing it up. I also got to periodically toss the cubes of bread to make sure they were dried out enough for the stuffing. I think that was the first time I realized how different foods could be put together to make even more amazing food.