Taste

I started cooking again fairly recently. I wouldn't call myself a top notch chef by any stretch of the imagination. I'm great at following recipes, but I get nervous anytime I have to deviate from what's on the paper in front of me. Just last night I was trying to make chili using a recipe Nicole gave me, and I went into full panic mode when I couldn't find several of the ingredients listed on the page. But what I lack in flexibility I gain in enthusiasm. I consider any edible meal an achievement, as evidenced by my pure and utter joy when my chili came out quite well, thank you very much.

I stopped cooking a few years ago when my relationship ended, mostly because the memories were too painful. I absolutely loved cooking for D. I was a happy homemaker, pawing through recipe books, shopping for boxes of meats and vegetables from Fresh Direct, cooking extravagent meals and taking full delight in any compliment I received from him. I relished my hours in the kitchen. As far as I was concerned, a well cooked meal was an extension of how much I loved him.

When we broke up, that excitement for cooking shrivled up along with several other things I used to take simple pleasure in. Certain songs became too difficult to listen too (I still can't hear The Cure or Weezer without thinking of him), movies, TV shows, even restaurants...they were all him, and our relationship. Cooking represented something that I had done for us, and to do it for only me just seemed pathetic.

I made a half-assed effort to start cooking again in my old apartment, but Jay is a natural in the kitchen. I'd watch wide-eyed as he'd cook from scratch, throwing random spices into a pan in between pulls off his bowl, blasting his Ipod off the little travel speakers he has. Milo would wait patiently on the floor for Uncle Jay to drop anything, anything at all. He inspired me, but my attempts to contribute to the meals of our apartment just paled in comparison.

About a month or so ago, I was sitting in Aaron and Nicole's house and I noticed-don't laugh-a Kraft recipe magazine. It's some free thing she gets, but for whatever reason, just thumbing through the recipes, I got strangely inspired. Nicole signed me up for my own free Kraft magazine (which actually hasn't come yet) but for whatever reason, that got me going.

So, in the last few weeks I've started pawing through the recipe books again, buying boxes of food from Fresh Direct, and reveling in the pleasure it's giving me. Yes, I have Abby to sample my wares as well, but, no offense to her, this is for me. This is to show me I am allowed to love doing these things, that yes, I cooked for D, but hopefully someday I'll cook for someone else. And for now, I'm loving my time in the kitchen.