This wont be a regular post

In all honesty, I have so much saved up that I want to talk about, but nowhere near enough time to actually sit down and write it, so here’s a short story I had of myself that I’d like to share

---

Cooking is a beautiful art form. A robust yet delicate dance of creation, patience, intuition, inspiration, and instincts. A mending of culture, love, and everything right with the soul, which creates recipes that can become far greater than the sum of its parts

And yet, I noticed that even when the dish tasted good, I never really let myself savor it

Imagine this, and picture it well:
You’re cooking a brand new recipe, unfamiliar to your pupils, nubs of your tastebuds, and you’re in charge of Thanksgiving dinner

But c’mon man, what’s the point in panicking? You’ve done this before, hell, thousands of times in fact

Cooking from memory, from your heart and fiery passion, is something that’s second nature to you

Sure, a few mistakes happen. Couple of burnt edges, over-seasoned moments, a little undermixed there, DEFINITELY overmixed there, who cares?

But when you take a step back, lining up the spread of food and festivities, the final product is glistening and absolutely beautiful.

The sunsets; five-thirty came around quicker than you anticipated, but you’re ready nonetheless. The table is full, close friends and family gather around, restless kids running around the living room, but they’re all humming with warmth and anticipation

Glasses are filled, plates are passed, forks are raised. The moment of truth is upon us

They cut into a piece of what you made, and with one bite, the room lights UP

I don’t think you get it. It reaches, no, EXCEEDS every expectation. You somehow made a bundle of ingredients, ingredients that have no correlation with each other, sing in a symphony, yet everyone is singing your praises even louder

Everyone loves it. Everyone is satisfied, yet demanding. Craving, craving for another round of comfort

Everyone… except you.

Because no, you don’t eat what you made…. Or perhaps you do, but only enough to survive

And you swallow without tasting

You deny yourself the pleasure of your own hard work for the satisfaction of others, and that’s how I’ve lived most of my life

I’ve accomplished things, many things. Created things, improved upon things, helped tear things down that weren’t working, and so much more

And every time, I watched others enjoy those tasty results while I quietly… and secretly… pushed my plate away

I wont go into detail of how this transpired, but the food I was fed was had very traditional and ethnic flavors.
These were recipes that were passed down, never improved on, and these got them by and helped them survive for a while

“You shouldn’t look for gratification”
“Just keep working and hang in there”
“Stay humble“

Hardly any traces of excitement I was anticipating from the food I made. Their palette hasn’t changed, and I don’t expect it to, not gonna lie; I don’t blame them for turning out this way eating the same food year after year

But somewhere along the way… I started to internalize those ideologies. The things I started to make, they didn’t taste as good as they used to… and at the time, I didn’t understand why

The good things that I’ve done, the things that I’ve accomplished, the work itself mattered more than the person doing it

So I kept cooking
And cooking
And eating without tasting

Until everything started to taste the same.
Dry
Bitter
And Empty

And maybe, maybe that’s just the hardest realization. One that I’m fortunate enough to learn while I still feel young

That depriving yourself, long enough, doesn’t always make you humble. It makes you hollow

So I want to try a new recipe, something different.

I’ll never forget that traditional recipe I received, but I wont be cooking it any longer

I’m learning how to sit down at the dinner table with those I love

How to take a bite

How to admit that I earned this flavor

I’m definitely still figuring out this recipe. Personal happiness is complicated, and I never truly tried to understand my own struggles. This is my first time

I don’t have all the ingredients yet.

But that’s ok

Some dishes take time
Some flavors need to rest
And maybe for the first time

I’ll allow myself to taste… and enjoy… as I go…

---

Sincerely,
Cravings and Comfort