Welcome!

Well hello! It’s me 4WheelWorkout and welcome to the 4Wheel Kitchen! Why this? I love to cook and try out new recipes so I figured, why not share that with you.  I like to find recipes and then alter them.  These changes might be something pretty small like…I won’t use an onion when called for.  It may be major: I changed the liquid or the measurements or the seasonings (yes, seasonings are major).  Other recipes are reminiscent of my youth.

But why the name? Why 4Wheel Kitchen? That’s easy enough. I am in a wheelchair (that’s the four wheels ya’ll).  And you know what? Being disabled really influenced when I learned how to cook and even what and how I cook. Am I really going to make a giant pot of chicken and dumplings? Maybe, but I’ll have to adapt the process. That’s it. That’s what cooking is for me: adapting and working with what I have to be as accessible as possible.

I didn’t actually learn to cook as a kid. The kitchen was my aunt Fran’s domain. Wanted something to drink? You had to go through Fran. Wanted a snack? Ask Fran.  And forget about cooking! We didn’t mind it growing up.  BUT later in my teen years, when I lived with my granny (Fran’s sister who’s really my aunt but I called her Grandma as a joke and it stuck), the not cooking was for a different reason.  It wasn’t that the kitchen was her domain.  It was because I was disabled. Being disabled in my family (well, to my Granny) meant being dependent.  The few times I did work the stove at home, it had to be under supervision and usually nothing more than cakes or brownies, hot dogs, and sometimes eggs.

Basically, I went most of my life not cooking.  The exception to that was my different stays in the children’s hospital.  There I learned how to make breads, pizza, other baked goods (all from scratch). It was so…it was freeing.  I felt like I was doing something so grown up, but that my peers had been doing for years.

I’ll try to be as exact as possible with some of these measurements, but the truth is I do a LOT of eyeballing.  Measuring wasn’t a thing I ever saw my aunt, Fran, do growing up. Come to think of it, I’m not sure she even owned measuring cups or spoons!

Well, that’s it. Come cook with me.

And hey, if you try any of these recipes, comment and let me know how you liked it!.