It's a Greek Thing or Probably It's a Me Thing

As the World Spins Madly on…

I cook.  And make neat little piles of ingredients.  When things start to get a little wobbly or I am feeling like my world is careening a bit off the rails, I find comfort in the rituals of preparing a meal.  I turn on music and begin making my piles.  The process of breaking down a bird and cubing potatoes and dicing leeks into orderly little bunches is cathartic.  It is an act, albeit a transient one, that helps me reign in the chaos.  I am an anxious control freak whose brain never shuts off and I find solace in rituals.  Cooking is one of them.  Painting, or making art of any kind, is another.

 

I blame the Greek in me.  This is what my Yia yia did her whole life – cook for others.  She got immense joy from doing so, especially when someone was in need.  And so do I.  When bad things happen, like an illness or even a death, we Greeks post up on your doorstep with food.  It is our way of showing support and love.  When great things happen, like a birth or a new pair of shoes, we Greeks post up with food.

Yesterday was one such day.  I turned to this playlist and began my ritual.  With each chop, the world began to slow down a little.  Joy began to sneak back into my world.  A lop-sided smile and another little pile was being created right alongside me.

sauting the veggies in the browned bits and rendered fat of the chicken - smells divine

don't let this brown town fool you - such goodness happening here - especially when crusty bread is dipped into those juices

I can’t always put Life into orderly little piles and follow a step by step process that results in a perfect little cooked up reality.  But for those times when I wish I could, when I really, really need things to be in order and make sense, at least I can make some mean piles of food and cook up a really, really great meal.

You know what I will be doing when the zombie apocalypse strikes.

kisses, mrs. V