Cooking and Being

I love being in my kitchen. As a child, I would always want to help - chopping, making sandwiches, or just stirring whatever was on the stove.

But in the last few months, I find myself enjoying every aspect of kitchen work: meal prep, cooking, cleaning, washing up, wiping dry the cups and plates. I’ve even started making notes on what went wrong and what went right with the food I made, creating doodles of dishes, or thinking about what kind of foods T might enjoy.

My thoughts about food have become more fluid, more non-linear. How can I blend different cuisines? What unexpected combinations might work?

But what do I love about it? What is it that draws me in?

For cooking, it’s the process of creation - putting together ingredients to create a balanced dish, striving for consistency while improving with every attempt. But more than that, it’s the silence. Like how Murakami describes running - you’re doing so much, yet your mind is still. Observing thoughts from a distance, like a tree in a quiet forest, watching the clouds drift by.

This relationship with took on new meaning when I moved to a new house with three flatmates who had been acquaintances and friends before. I began cooking for everyone regularly and preparing meals in advance. It became more than just personal satisfaction - it transformed into a form of communication and care.

I like this harmony - the simple exchange of effort and appreciation, of making food and having it received with warmth.