I can’t stop cooking.
I walk into the produce department at Whole Foods or Westside Market and I breathe easier. My kitchen and its humble tools beckon me away from my laptop. In the past week I’ve made my own chicken stock from scratch for the first time (it is so much better than stock I buy), whipped up a hot and hearty bowl of soup with items I had on-hand, made an entire meal courtesy of my grill pan, and saved some sad-looking apples from the fate of the trash can by quickly turning them into homemade apple sauce.
On Wednesday I was very early to a meeting by Grand Central Station due to an easier-than-expected commute and found myself wandering through the gourmet food market. I couldn’t get enough of all of the interesting hand-made, hand-cut, hand-mixed goodies. For the first time in a long time, I consciously felt all of my senses fully engaged and activated. As my senses opened up, so did my heart. I could have stayed there all afternoon. I was swooning over local food products as if I had a teenage crush. It was….wonderful.
Food memoirs are among my most treasured reads because there is so much history, mystery, and emotion literally folded into the foods we eat. Food and recipes connect us across generations, time zones, and cultures. They are our tie to the past and our gateway to the future.
As I think about future passion projects, I’m wondering how I might position my love of and fascination with food into my professional work. There must be a way. While turning that thought over in mind, I’m going to toddle back over to my stand-up kitchen to see which ingredients are jumping up and down saying “Pick me! Pick me!” Who knows…I may even bake a pie.
Christa Avampato 