Kitchenmosphere

I like cooking, I love cooking.
When I’m in my element though, it is one of my favorite past time. I do it when the mood is right and in the right environment (Impeccable kitchenmosphere).
It is a passion I built over time amongst other things, it takes my mind off so many things and gives me time to gather my thoughts – and the most important part, I’m pretty good great at it.

Ah! But I have my days though, my first instinct to know if I can never get with a guy is when my ingredients and my spices don’t just blend. Major error, tells me ‘move on sister’ – it’s either my jollof rice becomes too soggy or my sauce has too much salt; like my cooking becomes a natural disaster.
Maybe it’s because my heart is always in it and I can’t bear it not being done right but cooking to me is one of my major life blood whether being done by me or someone else.
Iron Chef America has taught me that it’s not the ingredient that counts, it’s what you do with the ingredients. I love watching Morimoto especially his plating techniques, or Bobby Flay (the all American cute chef), Symon, Garcés, Zacharian who also critiques on Chopped – I mean these people and the way they just handle food and use their spices to create an exquisite masterpiece. The funny thing is they can tell what spice has been used just by tasting (a skill I’m trying to develop).
It will be a joy if the significant other loves food/cooking as much as I do. It’ll be a pleasurable experience.
It’s an art you feel just by being consumed by it. A beautiful representation of meticulously entrenched thoughts to a perfect finish.

I will not usually blow my horn this way but when you have a mum who just anyhow cooking is not good enough for; and she would NEVER and I mean NEVER give you praise that you don’t deserve except she’s being sinister or sarcastic which one will be able to tell by the way – I am allowed to bury myself in my own praises.
Thanks to my mum for carefully nurturing me to know that cooking is not just a specious activity but that which requires precision. After all, One is what one eats.

Pulchae

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