LIFE | HOBBY | COOKING
It Tastes Like Happiness
An evening of delicious memories
“Ahh! No no, slice onions thinner,” sounded the anxious voice of my Mom.
“Sam, when will you learn. You always forget it. Cooking is an art. Feel it. Enjoy it. Half-heartedness will take you no far.”
She always took so much of pride in her cooking. I realized that I could never match her cooking skills.
Back to present day, I am no longer an amateur in cooking. I cook pretty decent.
Not my words. Friends say. Especially Mrs. Johnson.
Ever-curious Mrs. Johnson and her impish canine friend, Duke live in the house across. They often visit me at dinner time.
At the height of sizzling pans and dueling strong odors, my kitchen undergoes a mesmerizing metamorphosis into a haven of culinary art.
Ha ha, quite a show off I am, ain’t I?
I am so passionate about cooking. Experimenting with spices, ingredients is my play thingy.
Forget about new-age cafes and parks, the kitchen is a lively hubbub of clattering implements and ringing laughter. It can be a great dating place, I say.
Last Sunday the doorbell rang. It’s Mrs. Johnson and Duke.
Engaged in the rhythmic ballet of peeling and chopping vegetables, I was serenaded by Mrs. Johnson’s curious stare into kitchen.
“So what culinary masterpiece are you preparing today, darling?”
“Mashed potatoes, Mrs. J! The essence of comfort — where would we be without it? Care to join the culinary ballet with me?”
“Ahh, it has been a while I have tried ballet with a young man like you. I am in. It seems like forever since I had some lip-smacking mashed potatoes! Teach me, darling, let me in on your secrets.”
Mrs. J clapped and clapped again. She was thrilled.
I set the music volume to next high.
Our potato adventure gets under way.
Mrs. J wielding a paring knife while I was selecting the best potatoes.
Eyes never leaving the approaching feast which he knows is his, Duke seized an opportunity to perch while waving his tail.
We chatted about recipes, laughed, danced and relived the past memories and good moments.
“Why are yours so different?” Mrs. J wants to know while knocking a potato back and forth.
I laughed again, going through my own mind of potato trials on all Christmases and New Year’s Eves.
“The passion, Mrs. J.” I say at last, “That and a large pat of butter. But never mind — that is our secret.”
With the potatoes perfectly reaching tenderness, we started the therapeutic process of mashing.
The sound and odor of the pounding and kneading, creamy passion, spread tantalizingly through air.
Duke couldn’t help licking his lips and wagging his tail. And Mrs. J sporting a small piece of potato on her cheek, chuckled, “This is therapy, my dear. I have missed these times.”
As butter, cream and a dash of nostalgia mixed into the mashed potato, Duke’s excitement touched fever pitch.
He was getting anxious at our feet while waiting to sneak peek this culinary creation take shape and form.
Wooff Wooff!
Mrs. J laughed, surreptitiously slipping him one tiny piece of potato. “Even Duke can sense a delicacy in the making!”
Our appetizing mashed potatoes was hot and delicious. We sat around the dining table, with platters of food, like clouds waiting to be eaten.
Our first bite of the recipe-in-chief was a sheer bliss of divine taste. The luscious flavors whisked us back to the simpler delightful life.
Duke after securing himself several rounds, sat back under the table with a satisfied grin.
“This is just like old times,” Mrs. J smiled, enjoying the taste.
“Yes,”
I nodded in agreement.
Sure, it’s also a spell made possible only because food brings people together: There’s something more than just the ingredients; it’s also the stories and memories encapsulated inside.
The mashed potato was amazing, which we all savored to our hearts’ desire.
“Thank you, sweetheart. It tastes like happiness,” she smiled.
With both contentment and a derisive slant in my manner, I cleaned the kitchen. Duke, ensconced in his favorite seat, looked lazily up at me. An evening well-spent among friends.
Cooking, for me, is not just about making a meal. It’s about forming connections, painting memories, and finding pleasure in simplicity of sharing a delicious plate of happiness with loved ones.
It’s exactly similar to sharing my memories and experience with you all. It gives me happiness and joy. Thanks for reading.
You may also read this amazing writer Lise! Thanks.
