Soothing

I've enjoyed cooking for as long as I can remember. There was something about it that always seemed really comforting to me. I am at my happiest when my house if full of people and I'm working away in the kitchen.

I like the sounds of a busy kitchen. I like the gentle thud of the knife hitting the butchers block when I'm chopping veggies. I love the sizzle the garlic makes when it hits the oil in a hot pan. I like the pop of the cork on the wine I will inevitably open to sip (ok, gulp) as I work away. I like the sounds of the ceramic baking dish sliding across the racks in the oven as I pull it out to check on it.

I like the way my kitchen feels. I can't cook without a dish towel thrown over my shoulder or tucked into the waist of my pants like a makeshift apron. I love the weight of a boiling pot of pasta as I move it towards the sink to pour into the collander. I like the way my new, gorgeous counters always feel cool to the touch. I love the feel of the cookie dough as I form little balls to drop on the cookie sheet...and if one happens to miss the sheet and land in my mouth, well, so be it. I like the cozy warmth of Barley as he sits next to my legs, leaning in just a bit, patiently waiting for a morsel to drop to the floor.

And the smells? Oh, the smells. I could go on and on about the smell of banana bread baking in the oven on a snowy afternoon or the aroma of a pot of Italian Wedding soup, slowly simmering it's way to perfection on my stove. I can't even begin to describe how much I love the smell of coffee and bacon on a Sunday morning as I sift through the sections of a thick Sunday paper. Though it nevers smells the way it did when she made it, few things make me think of my childhood like a pot of my grandmother's green chili. I love the way a cucumber smells when you first slice into it - reminds me of summers as a kid when I would take a napkin full of sliced cucumber sprinkled with salt and head out to the back yard to stretch out on a chaise lounge and read a book in the sun.

I got home from work tonight and was about to just throw something together for dinner because it had been a really long and craptastic day at the office; I didn't have the energy to do much more. As I stood in front of my pantry desperately hoping something delicious would present itself, it occured to me that though I love cooking, I rarely cook just for myself. With one hand on my hip and the other wrapped around a glass of Pinot, I had an epiphany - I would cook a meal...just for me.

I pulled two chicken breasts of the fridge and started working. I drizzeled a bit of olive oil on a plate and added lemon juice, fresh garlic and pepper. I let the chicken sit in that as I put a pot of water on for the long grain rice. I chopped up carrots, celery, cucumber, tomatoes, scallions and threw them all on top of a small bowl of romaine. After getting the chicken onto the grill, I made up some of my homemade salad dressing and set the table. I can't tell you the last time I ate at my table...unless eating a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios while watching the Today show counts. I poured myself a large glass of ice water with a slice of lemon and set it next to the napkin and silverware.

I sat at my table and ate my lovely meal while listening to the Dawson's Creek soundtrack...because who doesn't love the Creek? (Sidebar: Josh Jackson, if you should ever happen to read this, please know that should we ever get married I promise to cook whatever you like every single day til death do us part. All you need to do is be there to make me laugh and pour the wine...and maybe kiss me on the back of the neck while I cook. Because damn, it 's hot when any guy does that but with you, sweet Josh, it would be en fuego. *sigh*) Wait...what? Oh yeah, so I ate dinner and though I don't know if I'll make it a habit of sitting at the table every night, I did decide that I will cook for myself more often. I used to think it was kind of sad, just cooking for one. But as I put away the leftovers from tonight I realized that I already have a meal for tomorrow and it will take virtually no effort to get to the plate... and there's nothing sad about that.