September 18, 2024

I'm Engaged! aka The Sohla, Delia and NIGELLA etc etc pt3

“for me cooking stems from an engagement with life”

So says Nigella Lawson in the introduction of Simply Nigella, a book I was gifted at one of life’s great turning points¹, and fitting really that I am only taking that message in now. For someone whose defining feature as a child was their propensity to have a nose in a book, I don’t really take much in. I reread books not for the examination of the language, but because I really don’t remember what happened, but the vibe was good². I may have scanned this opening paragraph on receiving the book, but the message deferred any touch to the long term memory³. Perhaps, also, it so chimed with what that particular turning point (and this one) was all about, that Nigella’s voice was not distinct among the chorus.

My error - particularly at that time, but throughout my life - is to feel that cooking, or food, is evidence of an engagement with life. It can be difficult to identify emotions and bodily reactions to events, to sort thoughts from the instinctive and the learned. Food though. That’s as obvious as weather. Suck a lime wedge and your body will direct you as fiercely as if you’ve stepped outside in the wind. It’s nice when you taste something and there is a gentle shimmering of saliva in the corners of your mouth. And the comfort when this happens consistently. For every crisp there is a delighted crunch, for every rocket leaf there is a degree of pepper to excite. And when you do puzzle over something in your mouth, it’s a much safer topic to probe and dissect than any other that might be worth querying. So to eat, to feast (or to declare famine) it showed gift of engagement. Look how much I care about myself, about how I can organise a day, how elaborately I can treat myself on scant resources.

Food can be such a simple and reliable gift to self.

I am wary of my current project. I am fearful that to indulge this little tricking obsession with Sohla and food and writing memoir-y blogs is to place myself back on a path where instead of allocating time for engagement (with all the mixed-up connotations that holds - community, instinct, family, feeling, art etc etc), I will seek out the evidence of doing so. I will say I have engaged with literature because I have put out publicly a screed of first-come-first-served thoughts. I will think I have engaged with my instincts because I’ve identified a need for a larger sprinkle of sugar in the tomato sauce. I will preside over many-coursed meals, distracted by the level of browning or tastes of the diners and lay claim to having cared for friends.

I want there to be hope here. This is the third act redemption arc. I place a quote from Sohla’s Introduction and tie it all back to being motivated to cook and learn and Ariel⁴ myself into optimism:

“I seek out challenging situations or intentionally impose limitations on myself because that’s when I think cooking is the most fun”

Only, now I read that and I see danger. Seeking out challenging situations can make the everyday seem like cheating. And imposing limitations - wooph - that’s tempting. When the limit becomes the norm and then you feel strong, strong enough to be stricter. Easy wins. Easy dopamine. Like making a list of all the things you need to do each morning and ticking them off: get out of bed, tick, drink coffee, tick, brush teeth, tick. Only it can be a lot harder to remember that the latter is important and deserves rewarding good girl petting, while the former is supposed to be a stretch on your skills, not the necessity. It is actually more important to eat the cucumber than to come up with a really great dressing for it. But only one gives me fodder for a blog post.⁵

The photos are some of the meals I’ve made for myself using Start Here principals. These are foods and meals I took photos of, conscious of pulling in skills while I was preparing, but I wasn’t trying to challenge myself. There were no limitations. Girl was just trying to make sure she ate. And she ate.