Therapy in cooking?
Frankly, I haven't the faintest idea what's got into me. For the last two days, when I should have been reading and catching up on homework, I have been cooking, and cooking, and cooking.
There is comfort to be found in the cramp, narrow piece of haven I call a kitchen. On an impulse, I grabbed broccolini, mushrooms and fresh squid instead of frozen lunches and cold cuts at the supermarket.
When I got home, I put on the music, shoved all study materials on my kitchen table onto a shelf somewhere and proceeded to cook my heart out. Without a real plan in mind, I surrendered myself to the familiar comforting motions of cooking.
First on the menu was steamed squid stuffed with ground pork, then the idea of deep-fried curry-spiced calamari followed along with pea sprouts with garlic, and herbal chicken soup. To others, these would probably be simple home-cooked dishes, yet for me, with the wonderful time-out from studying and working, it felt like a feast to the soul.
Even tonight, despite common sense telling me I'm probably behind on my assignments this week, I could not resist cooking up a three-course meal of brocollini, more deep-fried curry-spiced calamari and mapo tofu. And there are even enough left over for tomorrow's bento.
