Saturday, August 8, 2015

Maybe She Just Has to Sing For the Sake of the Song

Home cooks are like the house band at a neighborhood bar.  We're not the chef headliners at the big name venues.  No we're the everyday, get that shit done while making it fun, with love and looking purdy. The working artists. We cook to live.  Sometimes we cook with amazing fresh ingredients but more so with a whole lot of everyday common foods.  The basics.  And after a particular age you have to ditch many items in your bag of tricks.  You know, the stuff that always makes the party? The cheese, the fat, the high heat.  Age has a way of cockblocking your fun actually.  Or tries to. But you can deceive her Elderliness.  Make your own new definitions of remarkable.
If I didn't get to create and prepare meals for kicks I'd probably just dry up and die.  It brings me satisfaction.  A feeling seriously lacking in life today.  I have a bad habit of living primarily inside of my mind and coming out to earth only to forage for inspiration.  So preparing a meal from start to finish, buying the ingredients, visualizing the concept, clean and readying the station, chopping and washing, seasoning and operating the oven and stove...all these things are real.  They are tools to ground crazies like me in the physical realm.  I'm not doing it to win awards or for people to emulate me. I'm not trying to teach or preach or be the best.  I just really need to do it for my own sanity and it serves a practical purpose. So, bonus that!
To create is sometimes all I need to feel human.
I had some million dollar organic, no nitrate chicken sausage from the corner market but only a red potato and some yellow grape tomatoes.  I did a hash and topped it with soft eggs.  Salt, pepper and the only condiment needed was squirts of Louisiana Hot Sauce.
So remember, tip your waitress. Thank you and goodnight!

No comments:

Post a Comment

Just nod if you can hear me. Is there anyone at home?