The Soul of a Cook

I spent the holiday weekend with a group of friends whose culinary gratitude propelled my passion as a cook to new heights.  I am still experiencing waves of pleasure from the gathering, as it was a perfect storm of elements that fostered an environment for the ultimate in casual dining.

It started with my trip to the grocery store, whose array of ingredients had me literally dancing in the aisles.  I was childlike in my eagerness to see, touch, smell, taste.  There were mushroom varieties I had never seen before; lemongrass stalks by the bushel; exotic ingredients and spices I typically could not find where I live.

I inhaled the freshly-picked cilantro so hard that a leaf went up my nose, along with some dirt.  I filled my arms with as much lemongrass as I could carry; it was, after all, my hostess’ favorite herb.  My shopping companion was clearly amused at first by my manic display of food fanaticism, but in the end, he could not resist the pull of my delight.  By the time we found the truffle-infused cheese selection, we were in gastronomic ecstasy, and the patient soul responsible for our transport started calling every five minutes to see when in hell we’d be finished.  When he finally came into the store to find us, his eyes lit up at the sight of a basket full of heaven. On the ride to our destination, my dilly-dallying was further forgiven as stalks of lemongrass were placed under his nose, the luscious scent wafting through his senses.

But that was only the beginning.

I walked into my hosts’ domicile to discover that the kitchen had been created by a chef.  My eyes greedily scanned the Gaggenau stove…the Thermador convection oven…the Sub-Zero refrigerator.  The floor was even done in restaurant-style rubber padding.  It took me a few moments to get hold of myself.

As I fervently began preparing the first dish, I could feel the vibe of excitement in the room.  Necks were craning, fingers were pinching (from the pot), and eyes were twinkling with anticipation. It all built to a delicious crescendo that ended with the swoons of those who received a spoonful of love, straight from me.  For a cook to experience that kind of reaction offers a reward that is timeless, endearing, and gratifying to the soul.  In such moments, life is as it ought to be.

The delights of our tasting excursions over the next several days were accented by wonderful conversation on philosophy, life, and love, peppered with laughter and joy, and a pinch of sassiness.  Ok, perhaps the pinch was more like a bucketful, but that could have been the lemongrass martinis. My ‘chaperone’ seemed all too happy to keep my glass full, so it’s his fault.

Some might wonder why I would choose to spend my precious vacation time cooking, but such souls would reveal a profound lack of understanding of what it means to be a cook.  The craft itself provides a spiritual adrenaline rush, when one knows that one’s hands can deftly assemble a number of ingredients — whether simple or complex — to satisfy the people one cares for.  When one cares for them deeply, a plate of delicious food is an intensely personal expression of that affection.  And when I am able to offer it to a worthy audience, there is nothing I would rather be doing to relax and rejuvenate my spirit.

Wait until they see what I have planned for the Fourth of July.

Jennifer Iannolo is the founder and editor-in-chief of Gastronomic Meditations™.