Rule #1: Make with love.

I am the worst cook when I am cooking for myself.

I will, under no circumstances, truss a whole chicken, knead dough, dredge morsels through flour, or cook anything taking over fifteen minutes when I am dining alone. On the other hand, a dinner for myself and my husband, a dish for a potluck, or hosting a family gathering will propel me into an elaborate frenzy to impress even the most unadventurous eater. What is it that makes it okay for me to eat a microwaved burrito in the company of a computer screen? Or throw together the laziest salad of romaine with some Caesar dressing dumped on top? What makes it so easy to cook without love when I am the only one eating?

Make with love. It’s a really simple rule, but one that is so easy to forget when I am ravenous, busy or distracted. It is easy to take out your frustrations while cutting a perfectly innocent carrot, and end up with orange bits strewn on the floor and worse, the most misshapen cuts floating in your soup. Whenever I have cooked “angry,” my husband can detect it immediately. The flavors don’t coalesce, and it just looks rough around the edges. At that point, I am cooking and eating merely for sustenance, without quality or joy.

So I’m working on it. Conscious cooking, if you will. I am taking baby steps: reading a recipe the entire way through first before cooking, measuring out all my ingredients, carefully washing and cutting vegetables, and letting the hours pass in the kitchen. It is as much about discipline as it is about devotion. I know it will take me several years, if not decades, to make a baguette that is at once crusty and chewy. I accept that I will fail several times before I masterfully cook a pork chop. It will take all of my concentration to make a sandwich that I will enjoy to the last bite.

On the same note, I haven’t written for myself in over a decade. I used to really believe in the idea that you have to live a little before you can write. I am not really sure how I feel about that mantra now, since there is so much about my experiences thus far that I haven’t really taken the time to reflect upon. Much like how my own kitchen is a space for me to explore, learn and reflect on the many meals I have cooked, this blog is a place for me to do the same while thinking out loud. It is an indulgent act, to set about writing for oneself, but necessary to remember who I am and where I’ve been.