06 May 2009
This blog exists, at least partially, to give me a reminder to improve on my cooking. Less so in technical terms, but to remember me that food is something emotional, sensual and wholesome, and not merely a necessary part of physical maintenance.
And tonight, I realized (once again) how perfectly this is paying off. We had a salad of tomatoes and mozzarella with some roasted bread - nothing fancy, but it was great. I had my own ciabattini, some of them roasted with honey, some of them roasted with a 'pesto' of sorts, made from the herbs that grow right next to my kitchen door in the garden - sage, rosemary, origanum, chives, arugula - some olive oil, salt and pepper.
I really, no, profoundly enjoyed it. It made me happy.
I don't think I ever consciously enjoyed food so much as of late, or that I ever was able to be grateful for a rainy spring just because of all the things that will grow (and the herbs are growing like weeds, I tell you). Paying a little more attention to my food added a quality of life I never knew I was lacking.
Basically what I want to say is: I am feeling happy and grateful as a man possibly can, and all of that over a piece of bread with herbs. Now talk about simple pleasures...