You Owe Yourself This One

Cooking is not a talent and it is not a chore you were assigned. It is a relationship with one of the few universal facts of being alive, and it is worth having on your own terms.

You can do this.

Not because it's easy. Not only if you turn out to have some gift for it. Because it's one of the most fundamental things there is, and it belongs to you the same as it belongs to anybody.

We are what we eat, and that's not a slogan about nutrition. It's the plainest fact available. Every day of your life you take the outside world and make it into yourself. There are not many things that universal, and most of the others you don't get a say in.

What cooking isn't

It isn't a competition. Nobody is handing out scores. The version of cooking that lives on television, where somebody is eliminated, is a format invented for television.

It isn't a talent you were born with or without. It's repetition and attention, and it responds to both exactly the way everything else does.

And it isn't the thing it's been made into. Cooking has been, for most of history and for a lot of people still, unpaid and unacknowledged labor, assigned by default and noticed only when it's missing. That's real and it shouldn't have happened and it's worth saying plainly rather than writing around.

But the labor was never the cooking. The labor was the obligation. Those can be separated, and separating them is most of what makes it yours.

The part I know about firsthand

I've had my own struggles with weight, and I'll say the thing that took me a long time to understand.

Most of the ways food hurts us come from holding it at arm's length. Eating without noticing. Eating something you didn't make, don't understand, and couldn't describe. Treating food as a problem to be managed rather than a thing to be in contact with.

That only improves with contact. Not with control, not with rules imposed from outside, not with another system. With actually touching the thing. Standing in front of it, working with it, finding out what you like and why.

The distance is the injury. Closing it is the repair.

What I'm actually asking

Not a lifestyle. Not an identity. Not a shelf of equipment.

Try it for a day. Make one thing properly, pay attention while you do it, and notice what happened. If that goes well, try it for a week.

I'm not promising it will fix anything. I'm saying it's one of the few areas of your life where paying attention reliably makes it better, and where the barrier to starting is lower than anybody tells you.

You get a relationship to food whether you choose one or not. It's worth defining it yourself.

Try it for a day. Then a week. Then a month.

My hope is that it gives you a lifetime.

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