Yuanjun:
I cook because it’s bringing comfort, care and sense of home whereever I am.
Before coming to RCA for my master’s degree, I spent many years running a brand and studio in China. I rarely had time to cook. Back then, especially before the pandemic, it felt like the entire country was constantly rushing forward. The convenience of food delivery allowed office workers to survive without ever leaving their buildings.
The pandemic, however, made us realize that we still have bodies to take care of. As someone who used to rely on takeout, I gradually transformed into a cooking enthusiast through three key steps:
1. I had always had a habit of making breakfast, but my cooking skills were only enough for that. :)
2. During the pandemic, I became friends with the owner of a café near my apartment. She was passionate about cooking and often invited us to eat at the café. The warm, homey atmosphere of her meals made me start looking forward to homemade dishes. After living in London for a few months, homesickness motivated me to learn how to cook dishes I had never made before. Now, just like my mom, I can knead dough, cut noodles, and make dumplings.
I’ve come to deeply appreciate the meaning behind home-cooked meals—whether it’s the love of parents, the care of friends, or the kindness we show ourselves. Eating nutritious, homemade food has made me healthier, and cooking has become my form of self-care and therapy.
MelancholyMuffin:
A few months ago, I was drowning in stress. Work, deadlines, social pressure—it all felt too much. Then one night, out of nowhere, I decided to bake bread. I had never baked anything before, but something about the slow, methodical process—the kneading, the rising, the waiting—forced me to be patient.
That first loaf was far from perfect, but the act of making it did something to me. It grounded me. Since then, baking has become my way of slowing down. When life feels chaotic, I make dough, knowing that for the next few hours, all I have to focus on is the transformation of flour, water, and yeast into something warm and nourishing.
Aya C.:
I used to think cooking was a chore, something you did out of necessity. But after struggling with anxiety for years, I started seeing it differently. There’s something magical about the way simple ingredients come together to create something greater than the sum of their parts.
On my worst days, I make soup. There’s something therapeutic about standing over a stove, stirring a pot, watching flavors meld together. It reminds me that change takes time, that things get better with patience. Cooking has become my form of meditation—one I can taste and share.
NJ:
Nobody warns you that adulthood is just a never-ending cycle of deciding what to eat. Seriously, I used to think the hardest part of life was school—turns out, it’s figuring out dinner every single day.
At some point, I got tired of eating the same sad takeout, so I forced myself to learn how to cook. Was it smooth sailing? Absolutely not. I set off my smoke alarm twice, and I still don’t understand how to properly chop an onion. But hey, now I can make a pretty decent pasta, and my omelets no longer look like scrambled eggs! Progress!