My first week I made rice and it came out like glue. I finally looked up why and turns out I had been doing it wrong my entire life because my mom just always handled it.
The humbling part is realizing how many basic things you never actually learned because someone else was always just doing them quietly in the background.
But there's something really satisfying about figuring it out slowly. That first meal you make that actually tastes good and you did it completely alone hits different. Nobody to share the credit with.
What was the first thing you learned to cook properly when you started living alone?