I wish I lived more like I cooked. No real recipes. No measuring. I figure out one ingredient, usually something that caught my eye at the farmer’s market or Kreiger’s, the local market. Then I see what else I have on hand and get creative. Sometimes I google recipes or ingredients to see what flavors other people use or combinations that are out there. But mostly, I learn as I go. I “measure” by feel and color. I like that everything that I make will never be made exactly the way it was, nor can I offer anyone else the recipe because my cooking is about trust, experimentation, and being present.
I remember once my mom said to me, how come we make the same thing but yours tastes better? I joked that I put LOVE into it. Not that she doesn’t, but I sing and talk to my food. I have a relationship with it throughout the meal making process. The making is the point, rather than the eating. Though yes, I LOVE that part too, I mean, why else cook right?
Cooking teaches me to let go and not take anything too seriously because all the efforts will be consumed. As Krishna explains to Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita, “You have a right to your actions, but not the fruits of your actions.” Maybe that’s why I take photographs of what I’ve cooked, so I can appreciate the artistry of transformation, the blossom of a meal. Beauty in, beauty out perhaps? The moment where process becomes product. I pause and notice what I’ve made and offer gratitude for all that went into getting the food to the plate before me. And each meal I pray to live more like I cook. Wild, creative, and most of all, with LOVE.