Just as a storyteller wishes to strike the right balance between mystery and revelation, love and hate, warmth and harshness, reality and fantasy, a cook wishes to strike the right balance between all things salty, sour, sweet and spicy.
Cooking, I have discovered, is a lot like story telling. Although it's a rather newly acquired life skill, I must say that I have and am enjoying it to the fullest. I had no idea that stepping into the kitchen with an open head and an open heart would bring me such joy. I have been cooking for myself for the past six months or so now and I can proudly say that though my learning curve has been steep and challenging, it has most definitely been enriching and wonderful.
Because I live by myself I only have one mouth to feed, but that hasn't dampened my spirits from trying out recipes and dishes which might otherwise seem exhaustive or intricate. So what if it's only me who gets to eat at the end of it all-- I am gonna cook my heart out either way (is what I repeatedly tell myself) I guess that has allowed me to better my hand at cooking also because I haven't had to worry about how, what I present to an audience, will be judged and critiqued. It gives you scope and space to experiment, and go with your gut more freely than you would otherwise dare to.
There is much that goes into preparing a meal, and a significant amount of it happens before one has stepped into the kitchen. An idea either finds its way to a cook out of nowhere, or a personal experience prompts her/him to explore a new route, a new flavor. Sometimes inspiration strikes from another's work and other times it is pure want to create something novel and fresh that nobody else till date has dared to prepare. Storytelling works that way too. Often times I have put pen to paper either because I was struck by another artist's work or because a stray thought demanded more attention than I'd assumed it needed. There have been days when I have created characters and stories out of thin air, presenting them with a life of their own on my cue for no other reason but personal pleasure.
But that is only the beginning. Once a cook is hooked, then she/he needs to find out all about their next venture in the kitchen. You Google the dish, read up on the recipe, check out variations by fellow cooks and chefs, prepare an ingredients list, and then go through your pantry to check what you got and what you'll need to specifically purchase for this dish you want to prepare this time around.
Food fascinates me today beyond what I see and smell on my plate. I want to know everything about it; even the minutest detail is essential. Where does the dish come from? Who made it first? When did it travel across borders and find new homes? How has it evolved over the years? Why do people cherish a particular recipe so much and what does it remind them of? I want to dig up everything that I possibly can, on the Internet, about the food that's on my plate. This is another factor that highlights a similarity between cooking and storytelling. Just like food, stories about both good and evil have transcended boundaries and traveled across and over time and people for centuries. Every story has a start point, buried deep somewhere in somebody's soul. Every story has a purpose, has a destination, and in the interim goes through a journey as grueling and as beautiful as you could possibly imagine.
After inception and research, the next step that I personally move on to is preparation. It is important to know beforehand what direction you will be heading towards once you're in the kitchen. You can cook with your eyes shut only after you've had them open long enough to absorb and assimilate everything that surrounds you completely. I like to clean out the kitchen counter before I begin prepping and cooking to make sure that my work station is tidy and clutter free. Next, I lay out all of my ingredients in the order I'd be needing them in and work out a mental checklist in my head about what goes on the stove first and what gets pulled up to the chopping board instead. It is imperative that you work swiftly and with a clear vision in your head because that is what will ensure you make it to the finish line one way or another. Once all the prep work is done and dusted, I pull out the spices and condiments I'll be using to cook my food that day and bring out the star pots and pans.
Story writing doesn't function very differently than this. Once your story board is ready, you know you can now get to work for real. You have an outline of what your tale is meant to be and what characters this time around will take you there. You play out a sequence of events in your head ranging from flashbacks, introductions, twists, and turns until you reach a point where your plot's thickened and you know its time to reel in your reader with all of your storytelling might. At this juncture, a storyteller too has to ensure that she/he has conceptualized her/his story well enough to make it to the finish line. I understand now why some writers think of the end of their stories first before they begin to actually write.
So now that I am prepped and ready to go, with some oil/butter (basically whatever fat is your favorite) heating up in my pan/pot (read: they come in different shapes and sizes for a reason; be wise in your choices), it's time for the final showdown. I systematically (as is suggested by the recipe or as my pure heart guides me) begin to add the ingredients one after another, slowly building flavor, providing texture and adding oomph to my dish. I take my time with what's simmering over the flame and make sure that I stay steady and calm. It is just as important to hold back in the kitchen as it is to be free and hearty. Works the same way for storytelling-- you can not and must not over do it because too much of anything is bad. As the dish takes shape and consistently moves towards what it was always destined to be, I begin to jump on to the next step, which is plating.
PS: I always have music playing in the kitchen while I am cooking, and a glass of wine sometimes doesn't harm either.
With story telling, plating up is as close to putting together a killer climax as I can think of. It is the last and final step, but also something that can make it or break it for you. Food is a beautiful culmination of colors, aromas, appearances and tastes, each factor packing in a punch and adding a great deal of substance to a meal. When it comes to stories, it is the characters, emotions, locations, and relations which blend together perfectly to bring to you a heart warming and relevant tale. The one thing though, which I believe separates good stories from lazy narratives and good food from tepid presentations, is intention. If a writer's/cook's heart is in the right place, and they wish to unite people through their actions, then its the best story and/or the best meal that you'll ever enjoy.
As I turn off the gas and shift my utensil over to the kitchen top, I find myself elated and proud on having conquered yet another delicious blueprint. It is time to lay out all the different pieces of my meal such that each individual unit complements its neighbor well but also maintains its place on the plate.
Quick tip: Keep taking out the waste and cleaning your work space as you move along your endevour. It saves much time at the end and you don't have to worry about dealing with a pile of dirty dishes and garbage right after you are done cooking. I do that when I write too-- re-read and edit as I move along.
A sumptuous and delectable meal waits patiently to be dug into and devoured by yours truly, and that is precisely what I do. I sit down at the dinner table, look down at my plate of food rather gleefully and pat myself on the back for making sure that I do not go to work or bed with an empty stomach. Writing, however, achieves the opposite here-- it doesn't let me to go work or bed heavily laden with unnecessary and/or unpleasant emotions, and makes sure that nothing lingers.
On my good days, I get to sleep with a heart both light and full, something that only well-intentioned writing and cooking can do for you (or well, me).
I am genuinely thankful for having stumbled upon this love for a skill I believe is nothing short of an art form. My heart goes out to all the wonderful people out there who cook and who relish it and cherish it. It is necessary that we identify and acknowledge the power of art to mobilize people and stir in them something so personal and raw that only a mindless pursuit can unravel what it all means. And for those of you who do not write or read or cook, I'd recommend that you give yourself a chance with any one of those wonderful activities and unearth for yourself something new that you'd love to pursue.