Risotto a la Milanese.

Yesterday eventually turned out okay. For the most part it sucked. But, I did make a discovery about myself around 8:00pm last night. I’ve been toying with the idea of going to culinary school for a long time. I understand now that if I ever go to culinary school, it will to learn and hone cooking skills rather than to ever get a job as a Chef. Skills such as pastry work or knife skills or flavor pairing. I don’t want to be a Chef. I just want to be a cook.

Last night when I was cooking all of the troubles in the world melted away. There was no psychology paper due, or Art In The Park, or mineral chart, or Secret Doctor’s Book. There were only ingredients and the preparation and combining of those ingredients.

I have always heard, and have actually experienced, that if you do not leave your baggage at the door when you enter your studio to make art, then your art will suffer. I have learned to leave it at the door over the years, though sometimes a little sneaks in with me, and just let the art flow from me freely.

That is precisely what I did last night. I left my bags upstairs and came downstairs to make risotto and asparagus. And it was delicious. But, best of all, it brought me back from the brink. I was calm and composed and cool as a cucumber in a bowl of hot sauce.

I cooked with love and we filled our bellies with it. We ate so much that Pancake Land was food drunk and fell into a risotto coma. I couldn’t do much to help her because I ate more than she did. Hopefully there will be enough leftovers to get us through tonight.

Well, I’m off to pack orders and fire kilns. More soon. ~SC