Ah man, I love cooking. The best is when I've got the house to myself; I can crunk up Radio 3 and really go for it.
I love experimenting with new recipes (to which end this little gem has been abundantly helpful). In fact, I love the whole process of cooking. I went food shopping today and somehow it never feels like a chore - in fact, in a bit of a geekish way it makes me feel like a proper grown-up.
I love the feel of all the different types of food - all the different textures and smells. How they feel in your hands and how occasionally wretchedly awkward things are to chop and peel. I love standing by the hob and stirring as though I'm making some marvellous concoction that no one else has ever made; as though I'm the first person to ever experience that particular flavour.
I love that all the hard work and heat and the not infrequent stress is all for a purpose, and you can see and taste the result. I began to take a real pride in the finished product, it becomes a labour of true love and dedication - a work of art.
How hateful it must be to be afraid or begrudging of food. I think about how blessed I am each time I take a teaspoonful to taste as I go along, or breathe in deeply the formative flavourful smell.
Food is glorious, and I try not to take it for granted.
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