Cooking

 Yesterday I was cooking in our local soup kitchen, which is a privilege I enjoy once a week.  We had thawed out beef, and I was trying to mix things up a little bit by serving it Oriental style with rice and vegetables.  We never, of course, have all the ingredients we want or need, but therein lies the challenge.  Garlic powder replaced fresh garlic, sugar replaced honey, and whole sesame seeds replaced sesame oil.  Make do, find a way, and serve 50 hungry patrons.

My supervisor watched me for a moment whipping up an improvised Husain sauce and asked “Where did you learn to do that?”  I had to think.  I guess I learned something of Chinese cooking from a string of Chinese roommates in college.  They never taught me, but I paid attention when they were in the kitchen.  I learned to improvise through the simple act of cooking for myself and my friends and realizing that we were out of something.  It sort of helped that perfection was never a viable goal in cooking.

I am no Gordon Ramsay, nor do I aspire to be.  My point is that I have invested mo formal training in this skill of cooking, yet somehow I manage to turn out many meals of perfectly acceptable quality.  I draw on the simple experience of having paid attention in life and of accepting my mistakes, learning from them, and moving on.  My entire training in cooking has been experiential.  Watch what’s going on around me, pay attention, and try.  It has made my life very rich.