Last week I posted the recipe for the strawberry mousse I made and submitted it to this month’s Go Ahead Honey. (It seems so much longer, though – that’s what happens when you’re busy!) Before that, my sister posted her side of the story of filming part of the video. This is the telling of behind the scenes of that video, in comic strip format as told by yours truly. I wouldn’t exactly say as it’s my side of the story as I like to think it’s equally told by both of us (my sister and I). Enjoy!
Today I filmed a video, with the help of my brother (whom you’ll all be meeting soon) for how to make the carrot muffins/cupcakes (finally!) and it can be watched below. I’ve also embedded it in the carrot muffins post, following the recipe.
I really wanted to make something, with what I already had on hand and also that didn’t call for that much. I wanted to make something just for the sake of making it, as a kind of escape into an inner zen that is experienced while one goes with the flow of things, being “in the zone”, and having time to oneself.
Last night, as I was doing my usual round of visiting food blogs and seeing if there was anything new since I last checked. I often do read food blogs, sometimes I even come across a new one or two, at night before going to bed (it’s become a habit) but in this particular instance, I realized I wasn’t just checking food blogs: I was looking for comfort in food. As I checked the blogs and looked at beautiful photographs of delicious food, I felt myself wanting to make something, to use my hands. It was too late to make anything, so I waited until today.
When I am in the kitchen and preparing food, if I’m not instructing someone on how to prepare something, such as if my siblings or a sibling is helping me, or if I’m in conversation with others, or when I’m not rushing around, I find a general inner peace as I work with the food; that inner zen. For me, making food has always been an act of love. It’s probably one of the most open ways of showing your affection. I like doing it, I enjoy the process, and I like seeing people take pleasure out of eating their food. But I never considered making food as therapeutic.
Today, I realized and understood that kitchen therapy means finding calm and comfort in the preparation of food.
This entry is a contribution from my sister (she has her own blog, co-run, called Chaos of LCD & Kenkaniff), who had to choose a natural disaster to write about for an assignment for class and she chose the one she knows best: me when experimenting in the kitchen. She wrote it around the time I was making baked Alaska. Hope you enjoy.
A natural disaster occurs whenever something goes wrong in the kitchen with some sort of food my sister is preparing. For the sake of that which is recent, let us choose the Baked Alaska weather. The ice cream melted slightly after it went into the oven and came out, the tidal wave of frustration arrived. Lightning made of wrath almost struck the poor citizens of “Baked” in Alaska. They quickly took refuge in the stomach caverns. It was quite terrifying; their relatives, the Sorbets and the Pastries felt extreme sympathy for their relatives, but could do nothing but observe in silent sympathy. It lasted for an hour, which seemed more like an age, and the meringue got struck down by lightning (poor meringue, it was even on his birthday! And he’d almost reached the stomach caves too….!) because it didn’t insulate the ice cream to protect it well enough (you see, there’s a dragon (not a live one) living in the oven (or rather, sitting) and the fire got to the ice cream and made it melt slightly. I feel sorry for the ice cream, there isn’t anything for the ice cream to eat to cool off!). Fortunately, almost every little Baked Alaska escaped unscathed; those that got hurt where rushed to the nearest hospital, which just happened to be called Z’s Kitchen – which is like the devil’s triangle – stay out of it while she’s trying a new recipe or experimenting, as, like Mother Nature, she may get angry!