I had a thought today. Expertise comes from respect. "I don't get it" I hear you saying. Let me explain, my fellow blauggdience (I recently learned when you combine two words together that is called a Portmanteau. Use that one for scrabble or impress your friends at a cocktail party).
A hunter can only truly master the art of hunting after they have developed and nurtured a healthy respect for the animal they are preparing to hunt. An intimacy occurs : they learn their sleeping patterns, eating patterns, mating patterns, scent and general behaviors. They learn to respect the unique qualities of the creature God designed. Then they kill it. But they don't hack at it. No, not if they're any good at hunting. There determine an exact point on the body to aim, how to dress the animal properly after the kill - hunting etiquette - and then final appreciation for the animal by storing the meat and cooking it to perfection. Ahhh yes. A time to enjoy the fruits of your labor and the life that was spared to sustain yours. It's respect.
I like to cook. And for the first time ever, I am developing a respect for the food I'm cooking. It wasn't always that way. Many years ago it came from a vain desire to win appreciation. Much like a singer who approaches the microphone and an audience for the first time. Coming to the end of a song, with shaky knees, and hearing the roar of clapping and shouting in praise. Boy, that feels good. And all you want to do from then on is keep hearing more of that. They like me. They really like me.
Yeah. Cooking endeavors stemmed from a need to inflate the ego. Don't get me wrong. I loved it for some of the right reasons, like the challenge and tackling a new recipe or learning new techniques and having a chance to empty my brain and live in my head for the hour I would spin in the kitchen helped me stay sane many days. The creative and introverted parts of me basked in those moments. I loved it for some of the right reasons. But mostly self-aggrandizing motives.
My mother always said health and wealth start in the kitchen. And I've found that recently I've focused much of my attention on the health aspect of what we eat. Motives transitioned into one of 'how can I spend less and still eat healthy (non-gmo, no preservatives, no artificial ingredients, no food coloring, pesticide free, happy cow, happy chicken)? OK. this motive is reasonable and less self-absorbed. But today it really sunk into my soul. I get it! Respect for the food I prepare is the harvest that produces a mastery of the art form. It creates excellence and expertise. Cooking is a way to heal others with food. It's a form of loving people. It's me respecting what I prepare, who consumes it, and ultimately the Creator who designed it all. Unadulterated food. God's food.
And I get to keep the creativity and challenge in there for good measure. Those are nice perks.
I don't, however, enjoy the ego aspect of it any longer. Thank the Lord! I'm tired of cooking to get approval; cooking to get an audience of praise, cheers and standing ovations, chanting 'encore! encore!' while stomping their feet. I want to study the elk. Admire it's beauty and stature. Shoot it humanely, with a single bullet to the heart. Then enjoy it medium-well, with a dollop of horseradish and large helping of gratitude for it's life. This is how I want to cook. Respecting the food, those who eat it, and He who made it.
And the expertise will follow. Maybe even a round of applause.
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