Food and cooking has always been a huge passion of mine. Blowing away my parents and sisters with an awesome dessert: oven-baked banana with nuts and rum, some vanilla ice cream with it. Let’s not forget my special ‘Crunchy Spaghetti à la Sandy Spinach’. Sometimes my food creates happy faces. Other times I hear: “Mmm, it has a very special taste…”.
Food… Once, it was easy. Some cereal with milk in the morning. Or warm porridge. Sandwiches with cheese and peanut butter for lunch. After school, around 3 PM, we enjoyed a cup of tea and cookies with my mum. For dinner? Spaghetti with tomato sauce and a salad with mozzarella cheese. Cooked rice with tuna and a big dollop of mayonaise. Tomato soup with rice as a ‘starter’ and then pancakes with apple. Yes, food memories from my childhood.
Lately I ask myself when food became something ‘difficult’, or more complicated to me. Perhaps after my visit to the naturopath, learning so much about nutrition and the effect on my health? Or after my ‘fatter’ phase in my life and my mum joking once: ‘Oh, you look a bit chubby’. When did cooking with just 4-5 ingredients became boring?
Passion or obsession? Passion sounds positive to me. Warm. So I guess, if something is a passion, you enjoy doing it. It mostly creates positivity and happiness, for yourself and others. Obsession on the other side, sounds very negative to me. Cold. Something you can’t let go. It’s almost an addiction. A strive to perfection.
Sitting in my bed, gazing in front of me, I wonder: what is food in my life? Is it really a healthy passion? Or is it an obsession. I just read an article about it here. The very thin line between passion and obsession: being able to let go or not.
Am I still able to go out for dinner, enjoy a good glass of wine? Eat a piece of my mums home-baked cake, without worrying too much about the amount of sugar? Mix fruits, yoghurt and cereal in one bowl and not think about the effect on my digestion?
Again, gazing in front of me. Thinking about posting this, or just deleting this whole story.
Lately I am missing the simplicity of my childhood food. That I know. And even I love cooking, I am a bit in a lazy phase. Perhaps because I recently moved and currently making some exciting decisions. Friday, I went to my parents. My mum said: “Ah perhaps you like to cook something for us”. Usually, I would love doing that. Now I said: ”No, really not in the mood.” I spent some hours outside, collecting walnuts, shaking the apple tree as my eye caught some beautiful red ones. I went for a walk with my mum and our dog. At 7 PM, we decided to eat oven-baked potatoes, a veggie burger and a salad. It was perfect.
Saturday morning? I ate porridge. With butter and honey. Perfect.
Writing this, I guess food is more a passion than an obsession in my life. Overall, I am able to let go. But, the line between passion and obsession is very thin indeed. Sometimes I do have little ‘obsession’ thoughts, crossing my mind. For example: Saturday 10 AM, I always join a 30 minutes core workout at my gym. It became part of my weekend routine. Now, I was at my parents so I could not go. Yep, a little guilt feeling crossed my mind. But, then I continued helping my dad, carrying some beams. Putting the walnuts in bags.
Perfectionism is a bitch. I am learning to listen to my intuition. How do I feel? Do I feel tired or active? Am I craving eggs or cereal? And then, according to what I feel, I act. Why doing or eating something if I don’t really feel like it? I guess, it is about being kind to yourself as well. Not pushing yourself, but again: just letting go.
This morning I was making porridge. While steering in the pan, I kept thinking ”Damn, I ate this yesterday already and I am so much more in the mood for my homemade granola with red fruits and bunch of other things”.
Guess what I ate in the end…