Autobiography Enhancements

Draft 2:

I can attest that a spoonful of sugar does, in fact, help the medicine go down. Growing up, one could always seem to find me alongside my mother in our quaint Tuscan- inspired kitchen without fail. It felt as though there was not enough air to inhale anything aside from flour, and personal space was a vastly foreign concept. Between the electric mixers and my mother’s deafening tone, it was too crowded to even hear oneself think. Yet, our lifestyle was just the way we liked it. My mother and I, we were inseparable. When I was young, I believed that my mother was superwoman. When I grew older, I learned my childish beliefs were in fact spot on.
    I am incredibly grateful to have grown up in Bronx, NY. Instilled in me is a fiery soul that takes nothing for granted. From a very young age, I learned that nothing is earned without sacrifice. Seeing my mother voluntarily slave away in the kitchen has molded me into an individual who takes great joy in giving back to others. After school, most children ran to the streets to play stickball. Young Ava, however, raced up north Carlton Avenue to greet her oven after a long day apart.
    As I grew older, I turned my passion into a lifestyle. Dedicating my existence to making other lives sweeter has been the most enriching journey I have yet to embark on. When one takes a bite of my treats, I aspire for a wave of nostalgia to emerge. Perhaps a scone takes one back to lounging under the iconic maple tree on grandmother’s lawn just before the sun began to set on another perfect day. Maybe the blueberry crumb cake recalls upon a simpler time when your wife was healthy enough to share a bite to eat and chat about the outrageous current events. Regardless of the scenario, I hope to create treats that recall a sense of home. #BakeTheWorldABetterPlace



Draft 1:

         I can attest that a spoonful of sugar does, in fact, help the medicine go down. Growing up, one could always seem to find me alongside my mother in our quaint Tuscan- inspired kitchen without fail. It felt as though there was not enough air to inhale anything aside from flour, and personal space was a vastly foreign concept. Between the electric mixers and my mother’s deafening tone, it was too crowded to even hear oneself think. Yet, our lifestyle was just the way we liked it.

         I am incredibly grateful to have grown up in Bronx, NY. Instilled in me is a fiery soul that takes nothing for granted. From a very young age, I learned that nothing is earned without sacrifice. Seeing my mother voluntarily slave away in the kitchen has molded me into an individual who takes great joy in giving back to others. After school, most children ran to the streets to play stickball. Young Ava, however, raced up north Carlton Avenue to greet her oven after a long day apart.

         As I grew older, I turned my passion into a lifestyle. Dedicating my existence to making other lives sweeter has been the most enriching journey I have yet to embark on. When one takes a bite of my treats, I aspire for a wave of nostalgia to emerge. Perhaps a scone takes one back to lounging under the iconic maple tree on grandmother’s lawn just before the sun began to set on another perfect day. Maybe the blueberry crumb cake recalls upon a simpler time when your wife was healthy enough to share a bite to eat and chat of the outrageous current events. Regardless of the scenario, I hope to create treats that recall a sense of home. #BakeTheWorldABetterPlace