I love food and I think about it a lot. Some of it has to do with the fact that I am responsible for feeding the family, but most of it has to do with the fact that I just love food. I think it’s so interesting that God made us to need food and sleep daily; nobody has found a way to circumvent either one, and we quickly become weak and frail if we ignore our daily needs.
I learned to cook at the beginning of my marriage, and it was an adventure to find my own taste. I mastered the art of placing a meat, vegetable and starch on a nightly plate and realized I’m not great at making the same thing over and over again. I seek new ideas and I don’t just read cookbooks, I devour them and place notes inside them and buy random ingredients for that one special recipe, and often don’t end up making it again.
Over the last few years I have found more of a groove in my cooking. It’s simpler and fresher than ever before; more color and flavor, less protein and starch. More intention, less convenience. It occurred to me that I would rather eat a little of what I love than a lot of so-so. That revelation has stayed with me and helped me to reconsider ingredients, amounts and even desire. Caprese salad with homegrown basil and tomatoes, the best mozzarella I could find and imported oil and balsamic vinegar? A slice of homemade pound cake with just-picked strawberries and real whipped cream? Yep, I’m gonna eat all that.