kiss the cook

It is no modest task to trace one’s own culinary history, so I certainly won’t endeavour to do so here (but I will someday – that would make a great zine).  My relationship with food is active and constructive.  It is most certainly one of the grounding and governing forces of my existence, and rightly so.  I eat like my life depends on it.  As it turns out, it does.

My personal approach to food is a slow and loving one (I do occasionally enjoy a quick and dirty meal, but sometimes I feel a little cheap for it).  I am interested in sustainability and locality.  I try to be as close as possible to the sources of my food.  Sometimes I achieve this.  Sometimes I don’t.  I build most of my personal relationships around food and am still getting my head around the concept of cooking for one.  I find a degree of political and cultural value in the food choices I make.  I believe in creating access to good food regardless of dietary choices or needs or access to the means of production.  I think you should think about what you put in your facehole.  And so I do.  All the time.  From the moment I wake up until my last conscious thoughts for the day, I am wondering what there is to eat.

I am a somewhat nervous cook and I desperately want you to like what I’ve made but I don’t know how to respond when you say that you do.  More than anything, though, I am genuinely glad that you liked it, because I’ve got some compersion for the feeling of really feeling satisfied by something you’ve eaten.

My curiosity about sustenance is constantly fed, and yet I’m always still just a little bit hungry.

freudsexcuse at gmail dot com.