Cooking! Well, that’s the prompt for this week’s wicked wednesday. As an avid food fan I couldn’t resist it, but what to write about? That is a puzzle. Perhaps a hot little piece of erotica, based around my love of food? Or something a little more vanilla, sharing some of my favourite recipes?
Or perhaps I want to tell you what I talk about when I talk about cooking?
Before I start I would like to say that this post contains some discussion on weight loss. If this is a subject that you find challenging please proceed with caution. Otherwise, let’s get stuck in!
I love food, it’s no secret that I am completely in awe of the myriad of different dishes available to eat. I don’t have many collections, but cookery books are a very important part of my home. Through these books I don’t just find new recipes to cook, but I learn about different cultures, lifestyles, health and fitness trends. I do sort through them and reduce the weight on my straining shelves occasionally. If I can never find inspiration from between the covers then I’ll take it to the charity shop, to make someone else smile.
I’ve recently come to the end of my weight loss journey.
The next phase- maintenance- is just as tricky. Sir has made it abundantly clear I’m not lose any more, and that it is my responsibility to manage where I am now. I don’t like disappointing him but more importantly is that I wanted to become healthier. I’m classed as overweight now (NHS- BMI, pfft!!) but I’m also very active. I need to fuel myself properly for those long runs or I’ll become unwell. So, cooking has taken a new turn for me over the years.
When I was married I cooked what fitted within the budget and within the dietary requirements of P. Then, when I left it was all about the children. My oldest has not insignificant sensory issues so cooking smells were very distressing for him, within our modest flat, where the kitchen was open to the rest of the home. With M I found a fellow foodie, and we would indulge this passion with sumptuous feasts whenever we had a night alone together. But with the deterioration in my mental health I completely lost the desire to cook. Eating more than I realised in the fog of depression and PTSD; pick, pick, picking.
My physical health was not great, blood tests showed worrying markers, and these, coupled with my family history. I had to start regaining a little control. Which I did. First introducing breakfast. Then making myself a packed lunch when I made the boys theirs for school. Then eating the same dinner as the boys. Usually something beige, freezer food. This didn’t really work for me. The ASD team were non-judgemental, reassured me that they would be fine eating what they did. The youngest followed his dad and big brother’s example and would not eat what I would want him too. As a single mum I choose my battles wisely, this was three against one. Not one I could win.
But I had no desire to eat the daily freezer dinners. I wanted vegetables, meat, carbs that weren’t chips!
This meant I would have to find ways of enjoying cooking again!
Towards the end of my 8 stone (and whatever the loss was before that first weigh in) it was my submission to Sir that got me over the line. I asked for his help, told him where I wanted to get to and struggled against myself to reach his slightly less drastic goal. Healthy was the goal. And in spite of my insufferable whining, he stayed patient and kind with just one telling off.
Very hard to bear but much deserved and a strong motivator!
I won’t bore you with four years of menus, the minutia of my dietary changes. But I will tell you, I found my love of eating again through the art of batch cooking. And I love finding new recipes to cook up a big batch of something yummy. Or even just a few portions- like with a roasting pan dinner of veg and meat. I have always loved leftovers for breakfast, so this solves the problem of what a woman without a sweet tooth can have for her breakfast which will keep her satisfied until lunch. Or her next snack.
And the beauty of batch cooking is that when my mood dips and I can’t face cooking… I go to my freezer and grab a tub of something I cooked, liked, froze. A healthy dinner which will nourish my soul much better than a dirty kebab. (OK, I don’t always abstain from takeaway, but now it’s a treat rather than a blind necessity.)
Cooking with and for others has always been a big part of my life.
As a girl I would cook dinners and afternoon tea for my families. pre-teen visits to friends were usually accompanied by a favourite recipe book. Professionally, I’ve worked both sides of the service line, and I’ve even had the sheer joy of helping clients learn to cook, to take control of their world when everything was crumbling around them.
Nowadays the boys have to cook with me, it’s a rule in our house. They get free reign on the choice of main, and come up with a vegetable side dish that they have to try. But essentially, it’s their meal, and they’re embracing this.
And when I turn up at friend’s houses for the weekend I usually arrive with the contents of my fridge. It’s my way of thanking them for letting me stay. And a special treat for me, because it’s an appreciative audience for my culinary repertoire.
SWL and I cook together, sharing the kitchen and working in harmony. It is interesting, we work at such different paces, but everything always comes together just so at the end. Delicious feasts, usually Middle eastern flavours.
More often than not, when I am lost in the stirring, chopping or blending, I’m thinking of Sir. I want to share my love with him in this way. Show him how grateful I am for all he does for me. While my submission in the kitchen has never been required, there is a large part of me that wants nothing more to prepare a meal for Sir. To serve his dinner, to his tastes and exacting standards, to wait until invited to join him- or not, his choice. But as service is only submission if he requests it, for now it shall remain on my personal list of wants. And as my mum used to say… “I wants don’t get”. (Though, actually, I’m a lucky lady who does get a lot of what she wants. So I shall live in hope with this one.)
Apologies to Haruki Murakami for ripping off his book title- What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. (Affiliate link) It is one of the books I have read and loved this year, and I absolutely recommend it. Even if you’re not a runner.
From the story of how the barefoot sub became the woman she is today, to toy reviews, with a hefty dose of contemplation, a sprinkling of erotica and a LOT of nudity in between, you can be sure to find something to tickle your fancy at A Leap Of Faith.