The safe kitchen as therapy

It’s not exactly like running for cover from crime. But I have found the kitchen a rather safe place not only for cooking but for contemplation and reflection, especially about the outside crime-driven noise, where there is much more talking than listening.

AI for the kitchen too? No, with coalpot or electric stove, the age-old romance between human beings and food is too precious.

Turning the boiling rice, checking the simmering oats, preparing the seasoning, cutting the dasheen bush stems – all such kitchen activities take me into quiet contemplation. It’s like therapy. Patiently shelling the boiled egg is a winner for relaxation.

But the grand prize for “contemplation and reflection” goes to shelling peas. In fact, when silently shelling and reflecting next to my better half, and watching her shell her basin of green peas, I get uneasy. I know she is shelling but also in deep thought, reflecting on what I did or didn’t do. As I have discovered, I know when she is finished, she would ask me several questions.

Look, I have found being in the kitchen not only productive, but also fun bouncing into each other. Sharing household work has its rewards, believe me. A man’s place should also be in the kitchen, not only for bachelors but for husbands too. Birthday cards, anniversary greetings, ok, but sharing in the kitchen expresses genuine respect and affection. Treat the kitchen as a vehicle for gender equality.

I have seen how the great chefs of the world get celebrated. The internet has given us countless women who publicly share their recipes. People who become kitchen experts, cooking tasty dishes, inventing recipes, taking pleasure in serving their patiently-cooked meals deserve to be admired.

The kitchen is a good place to cultivate and nourish good character in teenagers – both boys and girls. The kitchen requires discipline, patience, creativity and orderliness. Cooking is both art and science.

Housewives who cook need to be celebrated. They are too much taken for granted, even placed low in the social-status index. Great concerns are now being raised about parents caring for the home and children. Many housewives have been doing this – especially in years gone by. It is, of course, a challenge to have a career, a job, and still look after kitchen and children properly. These are big issues for another time, especially where economic necessity presses single mothers.

But I digress. My deep appreciation for the kitchen comes with my own struggles.

My wife started me with a few recipes for cooking rice, making soup, curry stew and fish broth. I must admit, even though she wrote the method down, step by step, I am still far from her standard. Of course, she kept telling me I was “getting better.” That was a signal to improve.

So to save embarrassment, I took up that great Naparima Girls’ High School Diamond jubilee book of recipes.

The editors – Polly Indar, Dorothy Ramesar and Sylvia Bissessar – stated in their introduction: “With the fashionable return to our roots, has come a new interest in the old ways to use our bountiful produce. It is our desire not to discard the old but to build on it.” Now I am a big saltfish fan. Their book had saltfish cakes, accra, buljol, even kuchela and toolum. Later on, Oriental chicken, Tandoori chicken, all with the step-by-step method.

So I was hooked, willing to learn more. I gathered recipes from all parts of the world – Italian, Middle East, Indonesian, Cajun, French, Continental, etc.

I save cocktail guides too – love mixing the daiquiri.

My culinary aspirations obviously exceed my ability. But I intend to plug along, using the kitchen as an escape from the “merry-go-round” turmoil outside where it seems nobody is really listening.

The kitchen is a busy man’s refuge. The beach, yes, vacation too. But as I have found, the kitchen can work wonders. Every morning as I make my own breakfast, I feel so proud and useful, with my wife pretending not to watch: for example, boiled egg, bacon, buttered toast, sometimes jam. Porridge, coffee and orange juice too (sorry, diabetes). Roti on evenings. Don’t be surprised if you see me in a cooking competition.

Basdeo Panday said a country fails when “its citizens are not happy.” Well, whether or not we are all “happy” Bhutan and Finland style, I don’t know. I know I am quite happy, relaxed and reflective when I operate inside the kitchen.

The Desiderata or Serenity prayer helps, but I also like the kitchen, especially when nobody outside seems to be listening to me.