About

Who I Am

I didn't grow up knowing I'd spend my life in the kitchen. In fact, my early twenties were focused on something entirely different: understanding human behavior and social structures. I studied sociology at university, fascinated by how people connect, how communities form, how relationships shape our lives.

The academic work was intellectually satisfying, but something felt incomplete. I could analyze social bonds and write papers about community dynamics, but I kept thinking: what actually brings people together in real, tangible ways?

The answer, I realized, was sitting at my family's dinner table every Sunday.

Food was the thing that made my grandmother's house the center of our family. It's what brought neighbors together during celebrations. It's what turned strangers into friends at wedding receptions and community gatherings. All my theoretical understanding of human connection paled compared to what happened when people shared a meal.

So at 24, fresh out of university with my sociology degree, I made an unconventional decision: I enrolled in culinary courses. My parents thought I was wasting my education. My friends didn't understand why I'd studied sociology just to become a cook.

But I saw it differently. I wasn't abandoning what I'd learned—I was applying it in the most fundamental way possible.

Building a Life Around the Table

I got married at 27 to someone who appreciated my peculiar combination of interests: analyzing social patterns and perfecting beef stew recipes. We started our family quickly—three children in five years—and suddenly my days were consumed with the practical challenge of feeding growing humans.

Those early years of motherhood were exhausting. Cooking with three small children underfoot was less "joyful culinary exploration" and more "survival mode." But I kept taking courses whenever I could—weekend workshops on pastry techniques, evening classes on regional cuisines, intensive summer programs when my mother could watch the kids.

After each course, I'd come home energized and cook what I'd learned for my family. Sometimes they loved it. Sometimes my youngest would look at his plate and ask why dinner looked "weird." But I was building a repertoire, understanding not just how to cook, but how different foods brought different reactions, different conversations, different connections around our table.

My children grew up in a kitchen that was constantly experimenting. They learned to be adventurous eaters not because I forced it, but because trying new things was just part of our family culture. They learned to cook alongside me, developing their own relationships with food.

The Grandchildren Changed Everything

Now, at 77, I'm cooking for my grandchildren—seven of them, ranging from age 3 to 16. Watching them gather around the same table where their parents once sat, eating updated versions of the recipes I perfected decades ago, has brought everything full circle.

What surprised me most about becoming a grandmother was the urgency I felt to document everything. My oldest granddaughter, now 16, started asking questions: "Teta, how do you make that rice dish you always make?" "Can you teach me your bread recipe before I leave for college?"

I realized I'd spent fifty years accumulating culinary knowledge and family recipes, but most of it existed only in my head and in handwritten recipe cards scattered through drawers. If I didn't organize it, share it, teach it—it would disappear when I'm gone.

My son-in-law, who works in web development, suggested I start a blog. At 75, learning to use a computer for anything beyond email felt daunting. But he helped me set it up, taught me how to photograph food, showed me how to format recipes.

Yum Bara launched two years ago, named by my youngest grandson who couldn't pronounce "Bara's Yummy Food" correctly and it just stuck.

What You’ll Find at Yum Bara

At Yum Bara, you’ll discover:

Family-Favorite Recipes:
Dishes that bring generations together full of comfort, flavor, and simple joy.

Homemade Goodness:
Recipes made with real ingredients and easy steps, so anyone can cook something delicious with love.

Stories & Memories:
Every dish has a story from my family table to yours because food is the sweetest way to say “I love you.”

From My Kitchen to Yours

When you visit Yum Bara, you’re not just browsing recipes you’re joining my family table.
So, put on your apron, bring your smile, and let’s cook together!

Let’s celebrate love, family, and the joy of homemade food one dish, one story, and one sweet memory at a time.

With warmth and love,
Bara