There is a delightful Alexander Maksik essay in this month's Martha Stewart Living, which brilliantly mirrored a conversation I was having last week with a coworker. The essay begins:
"My mother taught me to cook by making her kitchen a place of experimentation, where nothing was forbidden, where nothing was frightening. While I'm certain she warned me of the dangers of knives and fire, I don't remember those warnings. What I remember is the possibility. Here are the tools, and here are the ingredients: Make something."
This is what I've grown to love about cooking. The kitchen has become a new studio for me—a place where experimentation leads to delicious possibilities. As someone who sits in front of the computer all day (and night), I love coming home from work and doing a little hands on creating in the kitchen.
It's 30 minutes, away from the glow of the screen, mixing colors and textures and flavors. It's straying from the instructions and discovering something original. It's the taste of joy... and I made it.
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