What's Cooking
I was going to be a baker. That was my sensible, practical plan for keeping myself fed while I wrote. I was well aware that authors who could support themselves with their craft were rarer than authors with talent, and if I was going to build a life where I could write all I wanted, then I would have to have another skill people would pay for. Since I always liked cooking and baking, it seemed like an ideal solution. It was all still art, but it was practical art, everyday art with immediate use. People would always need to eat.
Of course, I learned all I could in our own kitchen and read scores of cook books in our collection and the library's. I would experiment whenever I could, took all the classes the school offered, and added two years of more focused vocational training. The typical teenage jobs flipping burgers and making pizzas were serious business for me.
Starting a family derailed me from that plan, but I still found myself returning to those culinary skills. I baked bread regularly and found creative ways to stretch our food supplies. Even though my life has taken another direction, I think I will always enjoy time in the kitchen. Both baking and general cooking are fulfilling on a few levels. There's the scientific side of it. You need to understand the ingredients, how they react to each other and what they contribute to a recipe. You need to develop a mental catalogue of their qualities and a knowledge of proportions and substitutions. Some recipes can be thrown off by very small misjudgements. Particularly in baking, there's the intellectual appeal of learning the chemistry. On the other side, the artistic appeal is obvious. You may be using different tools and a different medium, but you're still creating a composition with colour and texture. Decoration or garnishing is even more blatantly artistic, plus you have the added challenge of making your art taste good as well. Somewhere between the science and the art is another less obvious attraction. It involves a little of both sides, as you start out with your precise foundation of chemistry and logic, but then step away into a realm of instinct and experimentation. It's the process, the magic that when done right, produces unexpected but welcome results. Transformation. You let go and trust in your knowledge to guide you to new places. In spite of the occasional struggles on the surface, the art of creating in the kitchen is a well of relaxation.
It's always been that way, but now that I am particularly concerned with my stress level, I'm reaching back to that comforting activity. Simple things like slicing vegetables can be calming and meditative. More complex operations can be fun and provide a sense of accomplishment. I'm sure there are lots of people who feel the same way. Judging by the popularity of cooking shows and blogs, people are recognizing the entertainment and artistic value of the craft.
So, in my war against stress, cooking will be a weapon. It will join the other activities I'm making a conscious effort to do more often, like reading, smiling, and just "wasting" time. These are the things that have seen me through stressful times in the past, and I know they can do some good now. I'm betting my health will improve, but even if it stays the same, at least I'll be enjoying myself. In a way, I'll be cooking for a living, just like I planned all along.
Of course, I learned all I could in our own kitchen and read scores of cook books in our collection and the library's. I would experiment whenever I could, took all the classes the school offered, and added two years of more focused vocational training. The typical teenage jobs flipping burgers and making pizzas were serious business for me.
Starting a family derailed me from that plan, but I still found myself returning to those culinary skills. I baked bread regularly and found creative ways to stretch our food supplies. Even though my life has taken another direction, I think I will always enjoy time in the kitchen. Both baking and general cooking are fulfilling on a few levels. There's the scientific side of it. You need to understand the ingredients, how they react to each other and what they contribute to a recipe. You need to develop a mental catalogue of their qualities and a knowledge of proportions and substitutions. Some recipes can be thrown off by very small misjudgements. Particularly in baking, there's the intellectual appeal of learning the chemistry. On the other side, the artistic appeal is obvious. You may be using different tools and a different medium, but you're still creating a composition with colour and texture. Decoration or garnishing is even more blatantly artistic, plus you have the added challenge of making your art taste good as well. Somewhere between the science and the art is another less obvious attraction. It involves a little of both sides, as you start out with your precise foundation of chemistry and logic, but then step away into a realm of instinct and experimentation. It's the process, the magic that when done right, produces unexpected but welcome results. Transformation. You let go and trust in your knowledge to guide you to new places. In spite of the occasional struggles on the surface, the art of creating in the kitchen is a well of relaxation.
It's always been that way, but now that I am particularly concerned with my stress level, I'm reaching back to that comforting activity. Simple things like slicing vegetables can be calming and meditative. More complex operations can be fun and provide a sense of accomplishment. I'm sure there are lots of people who feel the same way. Judging by the popularity of cooking shows and blogs, people are recognizing the entertainment and artistic value of the craft.
So, in my war against stress, cooking will be a weapon. It will join the other activities I'm making a conscious effort to do more often, like reading, smiling, and just "wasting" time. These are the things that have seen me through stressful times in the past, and I know they can do some good now. I'm betting my health will improve, but even if it stays the same, at least I'll be enjoying myself. In a way, I'll be cooking for a living, just like I planned all along.
Comments
Post a Comment