when everything is falling apart, dissolving back into the baser bits, simmered down and gently deglazed, white wine and butter, heartache and tears, take stock, add broth, low heat and immense pressure

life is made

equal parts butter and flour, salt and pepper, smiles and throaty chuckles, skip to the roux my darling

i miss cooking as a child, when life was additive not subtractive, when every meal was celebration, now just a means to an end

wanted to be a chef, an artist in the kitchen, turning scraps into delicacies, a form of rescue, re-use, refuse, refuse, just something we do, no excuse, the simple things extravagant, extravagance extraneous, exacting and exalting in timed steps

counting calories, saturated facts, sodium serenity, rendered fat, renditions, retractions, revisions, reactions

cayenne and turmeric, cracked peppercorns and garlic, whisk until it changes at a molecular level, folding proteins, drawing out the starch, emotionally binding, aesthetically divine

separation of yolk from white, can’t live a life without breaking a few eggs, caressing a few legs, making a million mistakes, add regret until the feelings begin to liquefy, the lies begin to quantify, the bad begin to justify, the heart begins to carmelize, it all begins to multiply

grilled and sauteed, but not loved and embraced, no etoufee, more an emotional amputee, baked and fallen malaise, an entree waiting on vous
paper thin slices like parchment, enchantment, enhancement, no investment, resentment, heart shaped filet, a liqueur flambé, citrus with a hint of grand marnier

falling in love is like making a meal

and i haven’t cooked in such a long time