The Recipe

So I have been taking advantage of food these days. Using it to keep my spirits up and high. Which it never, ever fails to do. Even in the sad little closet I refer to as my kitchen.

Food has always played a huge role in my life. Sometimes negative. Sometimes positive. Right now it is a positive. Like, kittens playing, positive.

I go out of my way to create reasons to cook. Football game? What to make for dinner? Movie Night? What delicious snacks can I serve? Girlfriends coming over? What sort of cheese should we have?  Sunday? What shall I bake? Cold winter night? Which new soup recipe should I try?

There is something that happens to me when I set foot in a kitchen. When I take a handful of freshly chopped onions and toss them in a heated pan. The sound it makes. The sizzling. There is no other feeling like it.

I get lost in the mixing, chopping, stirring, and tasting. The rest of the world seems to get blurry. All I can see and all I can smell is the food in the pot, on the cutting board, or roasting in the oven. Just typing about it gives me peace.

To walk through the door, put my purse down, unload the groceries, put music on, and cook. Its the greatest gift I can give to myself.

This has been a successful little project. Although not a cheap one, however, it seems to be preventing me from drowning my money and sorrows in wine. Instead putting my time toward something that feeds me, both figuratively and literally. So I spend the money. And so begins a night of bliss. And a nice home cooked meal.

Phil seems to be benefiting from this new found hobby. He enjoys taste testing my little experiments, all of which are delicious. Or so he says. I can see his face light up when he sees me busy in the kitchen. It makes me happy to be the source of that smile.

It is funny how the smell of anything in the oven when you walk through the door can make any home feel like a home. Even mine.

So this is it.

This is how I will get through.

This is my recipe.

And I have all the right ingredients.