Cooking, Confidence & Self-Efficacy: What Happens When We Realize We Can?

There is a particular kind of confidence that comes from making something with your own hands.

You start with ingredients spread across a counter. Maybe you aren't sure what you're doing. You read the recipe, gather what you need, and begin. You chop, stir, measure, taste, adjust, and keep going. Eventually, you have a meal.

And you can look at it and say:

I made this.

That moment may seem small, but it can be powerful.

In culinary therapy and Therapeutic Culinary Arts, I am interested in those moments because cooking can create opportunities for people to experience themselves differently. Someone who doesn't think they're capable may discover that they are. Someone who is afraid of making mistakes may learn that mistakes can be corrected. Someone who feels overwhelmed by a large task may learn how to break it into smaller steps.

The food is part of the experience.

But sometimes the greater lesson is "I can."

What Is Self-Efficacy?

Psychologist Albert Bandura developed the concept of self-efficacy, which refers to a person's belief in their ability to successfully perform a particular task or accomplish a goal.

Self-efficacy isn't exactly the same thing as self-esteem.

You might generally like yourself but still think, "I can't cook."

Or you might be confident in your professional abilities but feel completely lost in a kitchen.

Self-efficacy is more specific.

It asks:

Do I believe I can do this?

And one of the most powerful ways that belief can develop is through actually doing something successfully.

That's where cooking becomes interesting.

Cooking Gives Us Opportunities to Practice

Confidence doesn't always come from someone telling us we're capable.

Sometimes we need an experience that proves it to us.

Imagine someone who has never cooked before.

The first time they prepare a meal, they may need significant guidance. They might make mistakes. They may need reassurance. They might even decide that cooking isn't for them.

But imagine that they keep practicing.

The next time, they need a little less help.

Eventually, they know where the utensils are. They understand how to read the recipe. They know what certain ingredients look and smell like. They begin to recognize when something needs more seasoning.

Eventually, they may not need the recipe at all.

Something has changed.

They haven't simply learned how to cook.

They have learned that they can learn.

That is a much bigger lesson.

Small Accomplishments Matter

We sometimes underestimate the importance of small accomplishments.

Learning to properly measure an ingredient may not seem life-changing.

Successfully cutting vegetables may not seem like a major achievement.

Preparing a meal independently may feel ordinary to someone who has done it for years.

But for someone who is learning a new skill, these experiences can be significant.

Small accomplishments give us evidence.

"I did that."

And then the next challenge becomes a little less intimidating.

This is one reason I believe culinary experiences can be particularly useful in therapeutic and community settings. They provide opportunities for people to experience progress in a tangible way.

You can see the difference.

You can taste it.

You can sometimes even share it with someone else.

The Recipe Gives Us Structure

There is another reason cooking can be useful when we're thinking about confidence.

A recipe gives us a framework.

It tells us what ingredients we need. It provides steps. It gives us a general idea of what the finished product should look like.

That structure can make something unfamiliar feel manageable.

Instead of thinking:

"I have to make dinner."

We can think:

"First, I need to wash these vegetables."

Then:

"Now I need to chop them."

Then:

"Now I need to heat the pan."

One step leads to the next.

This is an important principle that extends far beyond cooking.

Large goals can feel overwhelming when we look at the entire thing at once.

Breaking them into manageable steps can make them feel possible.

What Happens When the Recipe Doesn't Work?

This might actually be one of the most valuable parts of cooking.

Because eventually, something will go wrong.

The food burns.

The cake doesn't rise.

You misread the measurement.

You forget an ingredient.

The recipe says one thing, but your kitchen requires another.

Cooking teaches us that mistakes don't necessarily mean we have failed.

Sometimes we can fix the problem.

Sometimes we have to start over.

Sometimes we learn what not to do next time.

And sometimes we eat the slightly burned food and laugh about it.

That is a useful lesson.

Failure doesn't have to be the end of the story.

Cooking Builds Problem-Solving Skills

Cooking constantly asks us to make decisions.

What can I substitute?

How much should I make?

Does this need more seasoning?

Is this cooked enough?

What should I prepare first?

How do I adjust this recipe for the people I'm feeding?

These decisions create opportunities to practice problem-solving.

In therapeutic work, those experiences can become opportunities to explore how someone responds to uncertainty, frustration, mistakes, or unexpected changes.

A simple question such as:

"What do you think we should do?"

can create space for a person to practice making decisions for themselves.

Rather than immediately providing the answer, we can give them an opportunity to figure it out.

That's where confidence can grow.

Confidence Grows When We Do, Not Just When We Hear

There is a difference between hearing:

"You can do this."

and experiencing:

"I did this."

Encouragement is important.

But experience gives encouragement something to stand on.

This is why hands-on learning can be so powerful.

Someone may not believe they can cook until they actually cook.

They may not believe they can garden until something they planted grows.

They may not believe they can create until something exists that they created.

They may not believe they can teach until someone learns from them.

Sometimes we need the experience before we can fully believe the possibility.

Culinary Therapy and Self-Efficacy

In culinary therapy, these experiences can become part of intentional therapeutic work.

The culinary activity isn't simply being used because cooking is fun.

The therapist may identify a therapeutic goal and use the activity as a way to support that goal.

For example, a person working on confidence might be given opportunities to make increasingly independent decisions in the kitchen.

A person working on frustration tolerance might encounter situations where a recipe doesn't go according to plan.

Someone working on communication might prepare a meal with another person.

Someone working on executive functioning might practice planning and sequencing a meal.

The therapist can then process the experience with the client.

What did you notice?

What was difficult?

What did you do when something went wrong?

When did you realize you could handle it?

How might this apply outside of the kitchen?

The cooking activity becomes a bridge between experience and reflection.

Therapeutic Culinary Arts Can Build Confidence Too

This isn't limited to clinical therapy.

This is one of the reasons I use the concept of Therapeutic Culinary Arts with people who aren't therapy clients.

A community cooking experience can provide many of the same opportunities for learning and confidence without being psychotherapy.

A young person might learn how to prepare a meal independently.

A parent might discover new ways to cook affordable foods.

An older adult might teach a group how to prepare a traditional recipe.

Someone who has always said, "I don't cook," might discover that they actually can.

The experience doesn't have to be labeled therapy to be therapeutic in the everyday sense of the word.

It can simply be an experience that contributes to wellness and personal growth.

Culture Can Strengthen Confidence

There is another layer that becomes particularly meaningful when we bring culture into culinary work.

Imagine learning a recipe that your grandmother taught your mother.

Or learning how to prepare a dish that has been part of your family for generations.

You aren't starting from nothing.

You're connecting to knowledge that already exists within your family or community.

That can create a different kind of confidence.

"I know this."

"This belongs to me."

"My family knows how to do this."

"I can teach someone else."

Food can become a way of recognizing that we carry knowledge with us.

And sometimes wellness involves remembering that we are not starting from zero.

The Confidence to Teach

One of the most beautiful transitions in culinary learning happens when the student becomes the teacher.

At first, someone asks:

"How do I do this?"

Eventually, someone else asks them.

"How do you make that?"

Now the person who once needed help has knowledge to share.

That changes the relationship.

Teaching requires confidence, communication, patience, and a willingness to trust what you know.

And it can be especially meaningful when that knowledge is connected to culture and family.

A recipe becomes more than something you know how to make.

It becomes something you can pass on.

What Are We Really Learning?

When someone learns to cook, they are learning much more than a recipe.

They may be learning how to:

• Follow directions

• Make decisions

• Solve problems

• Manage time

• Adapt when things change

• Work independently

• Ask for help

• Work with others

• Recover from mistakes

• Express creativity

• Practice patience

• Complete a task

• Teach someone else

These skills don't stay in the kitchen.

They can travel with us.

That's one of the reasons culinary education can be so powerful.

The recipe ends.

The skills don't have to.

Maybe Confidence Starts With One Meal

We often think of confidence as something large.

A promotion.

A degree.

Starting a business.

Speaking in front of a crowd.

Achieving a major goal.

But confidence can begin much smaller.

It can begin with chopping your first onion.

Making your first soup.

Cooking your first meal for your family.

Trying again after something didn't work.

Teaching your child how to make something.

Standing in the kitchen and realizing:

"I know what I'm doing."

Those moments matter.

Because confidence is not always something we find.

Sometimes it is something we build through experience.

And sometimes, the kitchen gives us a place to practice.

Know Good & Well

At Know Good & Well, I believe wellness includes developing the confidence to participate fully in our own lives.

Food gives us countless opportunities to practice that confidence.

We can grow it.

Prepare it.

Create with it.

Share it.

Teach it.

And learn from it.

Culinary therapy allows me to intentionally incorporate those experiences into therapeutic practice. Therapeutic Culinary Arts allows me to bring similar opportunities for creativity, learning, connection, and confidence into community settings.

Because sometimes the most important thing we make in the kitchen isn't the meal.

It's the belief that we are capable of making something at all.

And sometimes it starts with three simple words:

"I can do this."

Research & Further Reading

Bandura, A. (1997). Self-Efficacy: The Exercise of Control. W.H. Freeman and Company.

Asher, R. C., Shrewsbury, V. A., Bucher, T., & Collins, C. E. (2022). Culinary medicine and culinary nutrition education for individuals with the capacity to influence health related behavior change: A scoping review. Journal of Human Nutrition and Dietetics, 35(2), 388–395.