My Favorite Dish is One I Didn’t Cook
Thank goodness for family, friends, and restaurants
For a brief period of time in middle school, I thought I wanted to be a chef (mostly a pastry chef). As M. J. Carson mentioned in her monthly challenge story, “I am one of those millions of modern humans, probably mostly female, who have entertained a difficult if not tortured relationship to food.” It’s a sadly common issue in our diet-obsessed culture, and I was clinically anorexic. A significant portion of people with eating disorders (like me) develop an avid interest in cooking, often because we can’t stop thinking about food and we’re eager to engage with it in ways that don’t involve actually eating it.
In any case, that was the most kitchen-focused period of my life.
How much has changed since then.
For one thing, I’m now a mother. Allegedly there are mothers out there who revel in providing lovingly-prepared meals for their families; there are also many of us who are sincerely tired of it. Cooking for the whole house easily becomes a chore. For my part— between delving into the kitchen for all the wrong reasons and then subsequently spending too much overburdened time there— cooking is no longer my jam.
Thank the magical stars my husband loves to cook. He gets this from his dad. Here’s a beautiful pizza that he made just last week, sprinkled with fresh basil:
Pizza is one of his favorite things to cook and we enjoy it for dinner roughly every week. He became enamored with pizza after watching Chef’s Table: Pizza on Netflix.
Our routine version might technically be pizza bianca, as we keep our pies sauceless these days (due to an ulcer I had last year that fostered a phobia of tomato sauce). I’m not exactly sure what the rules are around terminology.
I’ve always said that I’ll eat anything on a pizza, which can lead to some fun experimentation. We’ve had a few whatever’s-in-the-pantry pizzas that turned out amazing.
Following in his father’s footsteps, our son also enjoys cooking. Actually, one of his close friends is a restaurant kid— that is to say, his parents own and operate an amazing, creative, upscale, locally sourced restaurant in town. The lead photo in this story showcases one of their soups, served to-go during early Covid times.
Self-proclaimed hermit that I am, dining out is one of the few things that occasionally gets me out of the house. It’s such a joy to eat food prepared by someone else, especially things I know I’d never cook at home. When my husband and I finally felt safe trying a restaurant in-person again (April 2022), we went to our favorite Indian spot in a neighboring city.
Anyway, when the aforementioned restaurant-friend comes over, my son often acts as his soux chef while they cook late night snacks together. One night, they practiced their kitchen magic early enough that we were all able to enjoy the results for dinner — fried chicken. I’m sure it was from a TikTok recipe (possibly YouTube).
My son also made this delicious strawberry shortcake from a recipe in one of our youth cookbooks:
Nowadays, I’m beyond grateful to let others cook for me. Whether sharing a holiday meal with family, trying out a new eatery, or enjoying my husband’s nightly dishes— bring me food that I had no hand in preparing and I will savor every bite.
Thanks to my fellow editor, OCTAVIA EVER AFTER for the thought-provoking prompt.
I wonder if my spouse, or someone else I know, would be up for trying Akemi Sagawa’s homemade miso recipe…
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