To me, there is no more relaxing G-rated way to start the day than cooking.
The appeal is so multi-layered: the textures, the nurturing, the tastes. And, today I noticed the sounds – and found them kinda soothing, too.
Standing in my kitchen, looking out the window at the sun shining through the trees, the new leaves were bright and cheery in all their spring freshness. And the veggies in my frying pan sizzled.
As I stirred the food, the sound of the sautéing began to change. It started to seem kind of melodic. Like a frying symphony.
My eyes favored the sight of fresh greens and mushrooms, my nose enjoyed the smells of the flavors blending.
Today, though, the sounds kept popping out at me. In the nicest possible way.
I began to feel grateful that I had so much to enjoy. The sun shining after days of rain, the quiet of my place in the sun.
I mixed some eggs with goat milk and poured it in with the vegetables. That started a whole new sonata of sound. I let it be as it all settled in together.
As I sliced the fresh goat milk mozzarella I noticed the thud of the knife against the surface beneath the cheese and appreciated the shapes the slices took.
When you slice things yourself – at least when I slice things myself – they are rarely even approaching uniform in size. Each slice has its own shape, its own layer.
I put the cheese slices in with the vegetables and eggs. The sounds of the sizzling did not change. But, then, the cheese just lay on top of the egg and vegetable mixture, quietly blending in. Being so unobtrusive.
I let it all set together and then reconfigured things a bit.
I have to admit it – at this point I was trying to manipulate the sounds.
Heck, if the Plain White T’s can say there is a rhythm of love, I can say there is a tempo of cooking. Hey, get it – “tempo” is almost like “temp” which is short for “temperature.” Ha!
Ahhh, okay, back to my cooking.
It was finally time to finish up and eat my melodious masterpiece.
And it was tasty.
Sadly, though, the sound of cleaning up does not do it for me.