Tonight I went to the store and slowly perused all the fresh foods. What jumps out to me, calls my name, begs to be eaten and not frozen. Fresh food, only enough for one night. Something just for me. Nothing guilty, just for me. No desire to stuff myself, just enjoy the food by myself. No recipes, just whatever looks good together. Fresh fish, vegetables, and fruit for dessert.
First thing at home was to walk the dogs. Let me wind down and get the dogs out. They were happy. Their heads whipped back and forth looking at the robins patrolling the grass for bugs. We walked past wafting smells of barbques being used for the first time this year, and many lawns that had been mowed for the first time. The wind was quiet for the first time in several days. The evening sky was clear despite the forecast of two days rain.
Back at home the dogs got fed first. No point in interrupting a quiet evening of cooking with hungry dogs. I began to cook with leisure. No rush, no hurry, nobody to get in the way of. The vegetables sizzle, the pasta boils, and the fish sears. The smell of the herbs in the vegetables and the seasoning on the fish was intoxicating. I have discovered a love for making a bloody mary. The thickness of the tomato juice, plenty of spice and lots of olives and pickles. So many tasty combinations. So I came up with one while the food was finishing. I plated my food and looked at the masterpiece I had created. Brilliant, and all without a recipe.
I ate quietly. Admittedly I ate in front of the TV. But I am able to tune the TV out and concentrate on my creation. I ate slowly and deliberately. I enjoyed the flavor, aroma, texture and sensations that the food created. My food, my creation. No one else to comment, no one to please. Just me and my contentment. Even the dogs were quiet for me. They must have known my need for peace and stillness.
