Everyone has their “thing.” Maybe you’re a runner. Or you like to knit. Or maybe you’re one of those people that scrapbooks the life out of every picture they own. (I’ll never have that much time…ever.) Either way, everyone has something that soothes them, saves them, and lets them escape and relax. Even if you don’t think you have it, you do.
If there’s one thing you should know about me, it is this: I cook. That is my thing. I am at home in the kitchen, even if that kitchen is not in my actual home. I love the feeling of a good knife in my hands, the smell of a roast chicken on a rainy Sunday, and the sound of onions sizzling in my favorite pan. I cook when I am happy or sad. I am somebody’s plush Jewish grandma, stuffed into a scrawny lapsed-Catholic body.
When I’ve had a long day at work, I will stop at the grocery store on the way home and pick up ingredients for fresh ravioli, stuffed with pork, spicy greens, and ginger, in a soy-ginger brown butter. If I wake up early on a weekend morning, a blueberry quick bread might find its way into the oven. When I am so tired that I can’t move, it will be eggs, scrambled with whatever bits I find in the fridge. If I have the flu, I will drag myself off the couch long enough to make chicken soup, fragrant with dill, and filled with kluski, just like my Polish Babci makes.
Even on a day like today, when my car got towed (pardon me, City of New York, for not being able to read the Private Parking Lot sign IN SPANISH…I am giving you my favorite finger, which is not language-specific), a cabbie drove me to the wrong impound lot, I walked 2 miles in the rain to the correct lot, got goosed by the largest dog (horse?) I have ever seen, and paid $108 to someone who may or may not have been a member of Al Quaeda. Once I was back in my car and the hysterics stopped, my first thought was….soup. I am going to make soup. Soup will fix this day. Maryland Crab Soup, lightly flavored with Old Bay and Worchestire, home to sweet chunks of crab and vegetable. Yes, I am going to make soup.
So that is what I did. And everything was a little better.
What’s your thing?