It all started in the home of my grandmother Alma H. Jones where I cooked my very first pot of rice. I was around the age of 9 and one Sunday afternoon I yelled, Ma!!! I’m hungry!!! “Mike, I’m almost finished cooking,” she told me. Now, I know the rice is the last thing that she would cook and at this point I can no longer wait so I said, “can I cook it?” She smiled and said yes and instructed me on what to do. “You need 3 cups of water, 2 cups of rice and rinse the rice until the water becomes clear.” In 1984, we didnt have a measuring cup or even a rice pot. We had an old red pot and a black plate to go on a gas stove to control the tempreture SO JUST IMAGINE the TASK I had to face… After I was done, my GRANNY had to recook it because it was gummy. From that moment of turning off the stove, I knew I was a CHEF.