Everyone cannot always draw, sculpt, paint, or practice the traditional means of creativity—but everyone must eat. Cooking, or the practice of preparing food, is the most accessible, engaging, and understandable form of creativity. It is a practice born out of universal need, but infinitely diverse, meaningful, and personal in nature. When smelling your mother’s steaming curry, unwrapping your abuelita’s tamales, or biting into your uncle’s barbecued ribs, you can be instantly snatched back to a time, place, and feeling.

Cooking is commonplace. Besides entertainment shows and high-class restaurants, it often gets little credit as a creative form. But cooking artfully is not reserved purely for a Le Cordon Bleu Chef or a professional baker. Fine china, plastic plates, old newspapers, and banana leaves are all canvases for the commoner’s food.

What if we reimagined cooking’s purpose? Our mothers and fathers would be our first artists, forming food that imprinted us with experiences of delight, satisfaction, and love. Our daily routines of food-making would not merely serve purposes of utility or quick-fixes, but involve an exploration of our creative and spiritual lives. Our relationship to produce, animal, and land would be rescued from misguided systems to meaningful connections.