Withstanding Chaos

What I find very satisfying in my new eating habits, that is to eat food that I cook and track and nutritionally balance myself, is when every parcel of food down to the last grain of rice, or the last branches of a way-too-humoungous broccoli stalk, all of the home made chicken stew or refried potatoes get eaten. I especially love how they incorporate in many different, newly imagined, spur of the moment recipes.

I guess that I am not shy to say that I am a fairly good, intuitive and imaginative cook. My favourite kitchen moments tend to be when I make something ingenious or unexpected, or just specially delicious, out of the 5 ingredients that happen to be in the fridge. If I manage to do that and process the food without waist, then I am a very content girl. Quite happy, quite satisfied indeed.

I don't stock up a lot of food, it helps to keep things fresh and interesting to fit my mood. Todays menu turned out to be chicken breast stuffed with procciuto (I can't spell that), marinated peppers and cheese, then covered with the peppers, baked in the oven and all covered by tomato sauce half way through because I thought it would dry up if I didn't.

Man, that was good. But I also enjoyed the plain rice cooked in not-home-made chicken broth and steamed broccoli that was a good 10 days old and losing it's colour. I had that while I was waiting for the chicken to cook and Man, that was good too.

I'm thinking of referring to Man every now and then, addressing him. Not in the way some teenagers put it everywhere (or at least I used it all the time, to talk to girls or guys, I called them all Man at some point or I just said 'Man' as a general expression followed by a sigh). No, I will say Man in the same way, but I will be talking to a Man. A specific Man. Like you, perhaps. Is that all right Man? Do let me know.

So Man, the thing I enjoyed at least as much as eating this meal, was that I had cooked everything right and made a little creation out of it and nothing was waisted and nothing was unpleasantly eaten because I had to. And the leftovers are all packed into containers that where waiting neatly stacked in my two lone orderly shelfs (all others are kept in precarious but withstanding chaos), so I have tomorrow lunch time sorted.

There is something very pleasant about this simplicity. It packs up whirlwinds of creativity and sensorial essays into my mouth, my body, then neat containers for the morrow. And all of the essence of food is kept, tested, studied and used. And the palate says thank you and when can we do this again.

I need to say a few things of my day now. It is the second night that I have insomnia quite severely from 3 a.m. onwards, so my return to work was a bit muddled. However I felt particularly calm and clear while I was going through the motions. And in the morning I triggered a pretty enlightening conversation with one of the senior partners. It turns out that we have a similar worldview and interests, and I don't know how I was so pristinely articulate and focused while we talked, but I was. After our talk I sent him a reference link and not only did he knew and appreciated the author, but it ended with a citation that he's been using in his presentations of our company for the last two years. Syncronicity stuff, Man.

It's been good, and now I rest.

Amourx.