Jeff, I love your writing not only because it is beautiful and meaningful, but because I can identify with your dreams and your struggles. I am such an overthinker when it comes to cooking and I strive to perfect every aspect of the dish I am trying to make. At times, this seems to take all the pleasure out of it for me. I want to learn how to enjoy the process and have gratitude, even though 99% of my time I am only cooking for me. Instead of saying it's not worth making just for 1 person, I want to enjoy the pleasure of it just for me. When I am cooking, my thoughts leave my loneliness, and I am filled with creativity and often delight. I am praying for a new year filled with meaning and love.
Last night I made, for the first time, Pailin Chongchitnant’s “Chicken Wing Tom Yum Soup.” It seemed a little magical to take homely little wings, a bit of water, some fish sauce and Thai herbs and only 25 minutes, with a comforting bowl of deliciousness as the result. My husband’s eager slurps were so satisfying. It was my first time working with makrut leaves and the technique of twisting them to release their aroma felt so joyful (what can I say, I like to smell things)! I tend to overthink too, as well as get burdened by trying to “ace” things, but somehow last night, I gave myself permission to learn something new.
Happy New Year, Jeff. Thank you for how you nourish us with your words; you are a gift. Grace to you in whatever this year holds.
Always such a rich journey with you, Jeff. And everything shared compliments everything else. Thank you for the time you pour into your writing and gathering.
I love this. Thank you. Maybe I'll make 'wallowing' my word for the year (I too, am not a big new year person and don't normally make resolutions or pick words, but I love the invitation to lean into our sensory selves and embrace all the different forms of beauty and pleasure offered up in this glorious world. God knows there's heartbreak enough to go round, let's not deny ourselves the true depths of the delights of being human)
Hello Jeff. Thank you for this wonderful and thoughtful contemplation of "wallowing" and food and overthinking, all of which led me to this. . .my Dad has always been a food pusher, to the point it has been utterly annoying. However, your contemplation on multi-sensory immersion caused me to realize that wallowing -- in the best sense of the word -- is exactly what my Dad does when it comes to food. (He also loves to cook) Dad loves food and everything to do with it. He loves to garden and does it very well. And he thinks and overthinks while he gardens. He loves to hunt and fish and has provided meat for our table, both in my youth and as an adult-- lake fish, deer, rabbit, snapping turtle, and squirrel (yes, in the day we ate squirrel because it's what we could afford). And he thinks and probably overthinks while he waits for the animal that sustains us. Instead of being annoyed with Dad's obsession, I am now rethinking (ok, probably overthinking) his delight in food. It's been 58 years of detesting his obsession and his only two hobbies, both of which relate to food, but your musings have given me a way to look at it as a potential gift. Since Dad is in kidney failure, this different way of looking at his talents is a *true gift*; it may even end up in his future eulogy.
May your 2024 find you wallowing in good things with delight!
Yes! Lets not forget to have a cackle or more this year! I'm determined to not let this election cycle bring me grief everyday! I'll be looking for those fun surprises of joy.
I read this from the hotel room I’m staying in before moving into a new apartment tomorrow, and I have to say how much comfort your writing always brings me. I suffer from a good amount of anxiety, and everything about moving out on my own again — from having to move up to the third floor to being responsible for cooking for myself — has had me worried. I loved reading about how cooking can be what forces you to leave your other worries at the door. I’m going to try and incorporate that mindset myself. Thank you sincerely, and have a wonderful start to January!
I so easily join Nigella in her love of wallowing in the kitchen, and I also join you in the relief I sense from Tristan’s suggestion to forget making dinner to order sushi. Cooking can feel like a luxury and the bane of my existence by turn. One hope I had for this winter break was to cook as many slow meals as I could, and indeed, we enjoyed from-scratch spaghetti and meatballs, beef bourguignon, cerveza-battered fish tacos with a pickled salsa, and my first-ever gumbo (that roux takes forever!). The crafting of each meal felt like a vacation in and of itself. And now I’m heading home from my father-in-law’s southern Indiana woods where he and Eric and I picked a bag of real Indiana persimmons that are destined for a pudding as soon as I get home. I can’t wait.
But Monday is three days away, and with it comes our normal crazy family schedule of trying to find even one meal per day we can all sit at table together, days in which I’m so often relieved by Eric’s suggestion to just order Chinese. I’m grateful for these past couple of weeks to luxuriate in the process of making good, beautiful food.
Side note: before I had to start baking gluten-free, I had a lot of success with Trader Joe’s puff pastry. I think I remember saying you have one near you.
Lovely article as almost always. The partner to whom I’m related to by marriage & I are in Mexico as many Canadians are want to do in the winter. We have tired of the all-inclusive experience so are trying our hand at a condo where we have to do our own groceries. Living within our means allows us to cherish the blessings of pan fried chorizo with an egg or two, a bun with peanut butter and jelly and local coffee. We sit on our patio, enjoying the warmth and realize, the blessing isn’t in the abundance or the elaborateness of the meal. As Raymond Carver teaches us in A Small Good Thing “It's good to eat something.” And Christ’s table is a place of forgiveness, kindness, and the healing power of human community. Something so simple. Something so rich.
So many delightful things in this post, thank you. And for the Psalm 121, no puff anthem.
Jeff, I love your writing not only because it is beautiful and meaningful, but because I can identify with your dreams and your struggles. I am such an overthinker when it comes to cooking and I strive to perfect every aspect of the dish I am trying to make. At times, this seems to take all the pleasure out of it for me. I want to learn how to enjoy the process and have gratitude, even though 99% of my time I am only cooking for me. Instead of saying it's not worth making just for 1 person, I want to enjoy the pleasure of it just for me. When I am cooking, my thoughts leave my loneliness, and I am filled with creativity and often delight. I am praying for a new year filled with meaning and love.
Hi Jeff,
Last night I made, for the first time, Pailin Chongchitnant’s “Chicken Wing Tom Yum Soup.” It seemed a little magical to take homely little wings, a bit of water, some fish sauce and Thai herbs and only 25 minutes, with a comforting bowl of deliciousness as the result. My husband’s eager slurps were so satisfying. It was my first time working with makrut leaves and the technique of twisting them to release their aroma felt so joyful (what can I say, I like to smell things)! I tend to overthink too, as well as get burdened by trying to “ace” things, but somehow last night, I gave myself permission to learn something new.
Happy New Year, Jeff. Thank you for how you nourish us with your words; you are a gift. Grace to you in whatever this year holds.
Always such a rich journey with you, Jeff. And everything shared compliments everything else. Thank you for the time you pour into your writing and gathering.
“The goal isn’t sheer perfection, it’s goodness and harmony.” THIS beyond the kitchen. Thank you!
I love this. Thank you. Maybe I'll make 'wallowing' my word for the year (I too, am not a big new year person and don't normally make resolutions or pick words, but I love the invitation to lean into our sensory selves and embrace all the different forms of beauty and pleasure offered up in this glorious world. God knows there's heartbreak enough to go round, let's not deny ourselves the true depths of the delights of being human)
Hello Jeff. Thank you for this wonderful and thoughtful contemplation of "wallowing" and food and overthinking, all of which led me to this. . .my Dad has always been a food pusher, to the point it has been utterly annoying. However, your contemplation on multi-sensory immersion caused me to realize that wallowing -- in the best sense of the word -- is exactly what my Dad does when it comes to food. (He also loves to cook) Dad loves food and everything to do with it. He loves to garden and does it very well. And he thinks and overthinks while he gardens. He loves to hunt and fish and has provided meat for our table, both in my youth and as an adult-- lake fish, deer, rabbit, snapping turtle, and squirrel (yes, in the day we ate squirrel because it's what we could afford). And he thinks and probably overthinks while he waits for the animal that sustains us. Instead of being annoyed with Dad's obsession, I am now rethinking (ok, probably overthinking) his delight in food. It's been 58 years of detesting his obsession and his only two hobbies, both of which relate to food, but your musings have given me a way to look at it as a potential gift. Since Dad is in kidney failure, this different way of looking at his talents is a *true gift*; it may even end up in his future eulogy.
May your 2024 find you wallowing in good things with delight!
Yes! Lets not forget to have a cackle or more this year! I'm determined to not let this election cycle bring me grief everyday! I'll be looking for those fun surprises of joy.
I read this from the hotel room I’m staying in before moving into a new apartment tomorrow, and I have to say how much comfort your writing always brings me. I suffer from a good amount of anxiety, and everything about moving out on my own again — from having to move up to the third floor to being responsible for cooking for myself — has had me worried. I loved reading about how cooking can be what forces you to leave your other worries at the door. I’m going to try and incorporate that mindset myself. Thank you sincerely, and have a wonderful start to January!
Jeff I wish I can express the unlimited joy of wallowing as it pertains to life - I might try. Thanks D
I so easily join Nigella in her love of wallowing in the kitchen, and I also join you in the relief I sense from Tristan’s suggestion to forget making dinner to order sushi. Cooking can feel like a luxury and the bane of my existence by turn. One hope I had for this winter break was to cook as many slow meals as I could, and indeed, we enjoyed from-scratch spaghetti and meatballs, beef bourguignon, cerveza-battered fish tacos with a pickled salsa, and my first-ever gumbo (that roux takes forever!). The crafting of each meal felt like a vacation in and of itself. And now I’m heading home from my father-in-law’s southern Indiana woods where he and Eric and I picked a bag of real Indiana persimmons that are destined for a pudding as soon as I get home. I can’t wait.
But Monday is three days away, and with it comes our normal crazy family schedule of trying to find even one meal per day we can all sit at table together, days in which I’m so often relieved by Eric’s suggestion to just order Chinese. I’m grateful for these past couple of weeks to luxuriate in the process of making good, beautiful food.
Side note: before I had to start baking gluten-free, I had a lot of success with Trader Joe’s puff pastry. I think I remember saying you have one near you.
Thank you, particularly for sharing “I Will Life Up Mine Eyes.” So beautiful!
Lovely article as almost always. The partner to whom I’m related to by marriage & I are in Mexico as many Canadians are want to do in the winter. We have tired of the all-inclusive experience so are trying our hand at a condo where we have to do our own groceries. Living within our means allows us to cherish the blessings of pan fried chorizo with an egg or two, a bun with peanut butter and jelly and local coffee. We sit on our patio, enjoying the warmth and realize, the blessing isn’t in the abundance or the elaborateness of the meal. As Raymond Carver teaches us in A Small Good Thing “It's good to eat something.” And Christ’s table is a place of forgiveness, kindness, and the healing power of human community. Something so simple. Something so rich.