Fall seems to have arrived here in Suburbiaville, and as much as that means winter is coming AND THAT IS NO GOOD NO, I have to admit that I am not entirely sad to see the end of summer. It was a long, hot summer — longer than usual, to be sure, with warm weather starting in April. But it was also very, very humid, to which our latest hydro bill can attest.
I don’t do well in humidity. I wilt, and sweat, and generally get fairly miserable. Now, 50 pounds ago, I would have loved a hot, humid summer.The hotter, the better. The idea of moving to a tropical climate? Bliss. But nowadays, it is hard to find anything to enjoy about a humid summer when one is wearing a fat suit.
So I am sitting with windows open and enjoying the cool temperatures. And do you know what else I am doing?
I have not felt like cooking… well, in months, really. It is hard to get jazzed about heating up a stove or an oven when you are, yourself, a radiant heating unit. A portable sauna, if you will. I have cooked, of course — if I had not, I would not be complaining about being fat — but my heart hasn’t been in it.
But the week got cool and rainy and suddenly, like a switch got thrown — TIME TO COOK.
Earlier in the week, I made jerk, as I often do in the fall, to put in the freezer to use all winter. Now, I would expect that does not really qualify as cooking, since the only thing that gets warmed up is some rum and the motor on my food processor. But it is time consuming and there’s food to show for it, so… COOKING.
Today, it was grocery day. All sorts of things began to appeal to me as we walked through the store. I grabbed cans of this and bunches of that. And right now, simmering on the stove, is a huge honking pot of Pepperpot Soup.
(Interesting that the first two things I made were Jamaican. I wonder what that means.)
I also have the ingredients for black bean soup, waiting to be blended into some tasty deliciousness. And, of course, I have chicken waiting to be made into doro wat to celebrate not only the Ethiopian New Year, but our own personal Family Day as well. Those will be made on the weekend.
I’m out of practice. I’ve burned the tips of two fingers already, on a rather stupid misreading of today’s recipe. And I am not entirely sure if I have enough receptacles to store all this food as it gets made.
But it doesn’t matter. There’s something comforting about putting on some of your favourite music, cooking up a batch of something tasty, and enjoying the creative time.
And, let’s be honest — something tasty as an end result is pretty nice, too.