Bringing Joy to the Every Day
There is one meal that I learned to make a few years ago that makes me feel like a chef when I make it. It's not that it's particularly complicated. It's just that it's one of the first dishes I made with all fresh ingredients - no boxes, no packets, no flavor pouches.
Called Lonestar Steak, it's a Mexican-style soup/stew that includes beef, green peppers, garlic, tomatoes, corn, black beans, and a variety of spices. The first time I made this dish, I marveled at how colorful it was, especially when you first load all the ingredients in the pan. I love the prep work for this recipe too - cutting up the vegetables, draining and rinsing the beans, measuring out the spices. It just feels like a special meal and that's why I usually make it on a weekend when I have a bit more time. It's the kind of dish that gets better as it simmers.
I made this recipe on Sunday and it was the first time I'd made it in awhile. Most evenings when it's my turn to cook, I'm scrambling to decide what to make. While I'm cooking, my mind is usually elsewhere. Sometimes I listen to a podcast. Other times I'm unloading the dishwasher while something is cooking on the stove. Or my mind is on whatever I'm wrestling with at the moment.
When I make this recipe though, I'm usually a bit more present. It takes more effort than my typical meals. When it came time to make dinner on Sunday, I found that I was actually looking forward to it and decided to make a bit of a celebration out of the experience.
I donned my new apron* and put on some cooking music. One of my favorites is the album, A Boy Named Charlie Brown by Vince Guaraldi Trio, which provides a happy, jazzy feel that's perfect for cooking.
I found myself enjoying everything about the cooking experience from the music playing gently in the background to dicing the peppers, browning the meat and cooking the pasta. Everything flowed easily from one thing to the next. I even caught myself playing "air piano" a few times to the music.
It was a truly delightful experience - one I want to savor and remember. Isn't it interesting how everyday things can be extraordinary when we can be fully present to them? Something as simple as making dinner takes on a whole new dimension when we can slow down and drink it in. Have you experienced moments like this?
As I return to the world of work this week, I know it's more important than ever for me to cultivate moments like this, not just in my art, but in my life as well. I hope this reminds you to find these little treasures in your own life, too.
*PS - I bought the apron above, along with some matching tea towels with an Amazon gift card I got for my birthday. I love the artist's watercolor work so much. The cute birds among gentle branches just speaks to me in a way that is impossible to describe. I had been wanting an apron for quite awhile and this one was just perfect. When it arrived my husband said, "That looks like something you made." That was one of the best compliments I've ever received. While I don't think my artwork is quite that refined yet, I do hope that it will someday have this gentle, whimsical quality that celebrates nature at its best. In the meantime, I'll celebrate the joy of cooking with these little birds.
PPS - If you missed last week's newsletter about my return to full-time work, you can read more about it here.