When I resigned from my cooking job for health reasons year and a half ago, I stopped cooking completely. I hadn’t cooked much at home for years, and now that it wasn’t my job anymore either, I stopped. I lived on take-out, bread, fruits and snacks, doing the bare minimum in the kitchen to stay alive. Last year was a worldwind of travel and moving around anyways, so I wasn’t home for many consecutive days, no use in stocking the fridge.
This year I’ve taken a step back to consentrate on what is important and living a more balanced life, home cooked meals included. The travelling kind of fucked my body up and I need to take better care of myself.
Here is the thing, I never truly loved being a chef, because I was serving strangers. Why I loved cooking from a very young age was because I was making the food for my loved ones.
I love getting to know what my loved ones like, giving them new things to try and adjusting recipes to suit them, within the limits of my skills.
I enjoy the process of thinking what I would possibly want to make, some ingredient I want to use or food from a certain region, then going deep into pinterest to find ideas. I rarely use any specific recipes, I use cookbooks and internet mainly as inspiration, and I often combine at least three different recipes. It’s the best feeling when someone is super happy that you cooked something nice for them.
I hate the food shopping part, I really wish all the ingredients would magically appear in my kitchen so I don’t have to go hunt for it.
Happiness is a full fridge!
I have friends coming over for the weekend so the fridge is all stocked up and I have good reason to cook! I have planned on making at least beef stir fry, pita bread and a fruit salad, which might turn into a sangria.