Home cooking for the soul
Markets aren’t the only thing that need corrections.
Emotional states need them, too.
I’ve been running along at a heightened (wholesome and good) emotional state for some time now; a freight train filled with good thoughts and feelings and a shitload of straight track ahead. Miles and miles and miles of it.
I am a work in progress, this I realize; I know that I have trouble with downturns in my emotional market. The lull times. Being “down.”
I don’t realize that the lulls are a time for correction. Deep thought. A small sigh. Living with the lull – embracing it – rather than letting anxiety swallow it and choke me is the learning curve I’m still having trouble with.
All it takes is one small blip to begin a lull.
It happened Tuesday.
There are things I’d rather not have to do or deal with. I’m not ignoring them, I just haven’t had the time to give my full attention to them (they’re not going away, this I know; ignorance is not bliss in this case).
So I’m sitting in the yard watching the world go by and my legs are pistons that fire the anxiety engine of my soul.
I needed something (that’s wasn’t alcohol).
I needed home-cooking.
Comfort food.
Mom’s China pie.
(Shepherds pie for those in England; pâté chinois for my French Canadian friends).
We ate a lot of China pie growing up. It’s cheap ground beef sautéed with onion, mixed with whole-kernel corn and topped with mashed potatoes and a liberal sprinkling of Lawry’s Seasoning Salt (an absolute must).
Course, being a cook, I needed to fuck with that.
I sauté the onions in good olive oil and seasonings. I pan-roast the corn kernels. I use ground sirloin.
The mashed ‘taters? New potatoes, skins left on, and roast garlic added. Real butter. A little cream.
A liberal sprinkling of Lawry's Seasoning Salt and a little time in a 350-degree oven.
One fork-full and I was better. Calm, cool, collected. Ready to embrace the lull.
(OK, it also helped to have stimulating dinner conversation with a lovely dining companion – “notice that I got you to cook for me first,” she said - and a nice, little 2002 Cabernet Sauvignon from the Columbia Valley, but I digress.)
I slept well. I slept in. I purchased an Americano to go.
Let the lull happen.
I’ve got leftover China pie in the fridge.
Emotional states need them, too.
I’ve been running along at a heightened (wholesome and good) emotional state for some time now; a freight train filled with good thoughts and feelings and a shitload of straight track ahead. Miles and miles and miles of it.
I am a work in progress, this I realize; I know that I have trouble with downturns in my emotional market. The lull times. Being “down.”
I don’t realize that the lulls are a time for correction. Deep thought. A small sigh. Living with the lull – embracing it – rather than letting anxiety swallow it and choke me is the learning curve I’m still having trouble with.
All it takes is one small blip to begin a lull.
It happened Tuesday.
There are things I’d rather not have to do or deal with. I’m not ignoring them, I just haven’t had the time to give my full attention to them (they’re not going away, this I know; ignorance is not bliss in this case).
So I’m sitting in the yard watching the world go by and my legs are pistons that fire the anxiety engine of my soul.
I needed something (that’s wasn’t alcohol).
I needed home-cooking.
Comfort food.
Mom’s China pie.
(Shepherds pie for those in England; pâté chinois for my French Canadian friends).
We ate a lot of China pie growing up. It’s cheap ground beef sautéed with onion, mixed with whole-kernel corn and topped with mashed potatoes and a liberal sprinkling of Lawry’s Seasoning Salt (an absolute must).
Course, being a cook, I needed to fuck with that.
I sauté the onions in good olive oil and seasonings. I pan-roast the corn kernels. I use ground sirloin.
The mashed ‘taters? New potatoes, skins left on, and roast garlic added. Real butter. A little cream.
A liberal sprinkling of Lawry's Seasoning Salt and a little time in a 350-degree oven.
One fork-full and I was better. Calm, cool, collected. Ready to embrace the lull.
(OK, it also helped to have stimulating dinner conversation with a lovely dining companion – “notice that I got you to cook for me first,” she said - and a nice, little 2002 Cabernet Sauvignon from the Columbia Valley, but I digress.)
I slept well. I slept in. I purchased an Americano to go.
Let the lull happen.
I’ve got leftover China pie in the fridge.
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