When Less Is Really, Truly More
When Less Is Really, Truly More
I have everything I need
Last spring, when someone asked me if I liked to cook, I was totally honest with him. Not really, I confessed. Not at all, actually. I’d never admitted that before, not even to myself. Saying it out loud was a relief. At gatherings, I played along while my friends talked about their love of cooking and baking, and we swapped recipes. It felt like one of those things that you aren’t really allowed to dislike. It was a chore that you couldn’t delay like you can with vacuuming or making the bed. You kind of have to make food for yourself, so you might as well enjoy the process. But in my decade of adulthood, I never did. I didn’t like the mess. I didn’t like the dishes. I didn’t like filling my cupboards with ingredients I’d only use for one obscure recipe. I didn’t like that preparation took hours and eating took minutes. I tried to find cookbooks I liked, but those just became coffee table decor. Not even our apartment’s spacious kitchen with lengthy butcher block counters and a flood of natural light could convert me into a joyous home cook.
Just as I started accepting this fact about myself, something within me shifted. It was right around the time we bought our first house in November. The bungalow checked most of our boxes. Three bedrooms. Fenced front and back yards. Storage space. Big windows. But it didn’t have a garage and the kitchen was quite small. Maybe a deal breaker for some people, but no biggie for us. We didn’t like to cook much anyway, we told our realtor. Nothing but the truth. As we’ve settled in, we’ve found that the kitchen has just barely enough space for most of our kitchen things, but we’d like to build floating shelves above the sink and a pantry in the laundry room. The fridge is slight, the drawers are few, and the counter is no bigger than a corner. But I’m cooking more than I ever have before—and I’m actually enjoying it. Truly. So much so that I’m hosting a dinner in a few weeks.
Something about the layout is clicking for me. Everything is within a few steps away. I can wash my hands, dry them, grab a saucepan, drop a dirty spoon in the sink, throw away a butter wrapper, and get back to cooking by the time the garlic is done. It’s all right there. And cooking is starting to feel like a dance, a rhythm. I’m trying a lot of recipes from Molly Baz’s books at the moment. I love that her almost every recipe takes up a single page and requires ingredients that are already in our regular rotation. Cilantro, fennel, lemons, rice, tahini, and so on.
In a culture obsessed with bigger, faster, more more more, I’m realizing that I’m pretty satisfied right now with smaller, slower, less. Our compact kitchen is enough. And I love that as soon as I’ve made up my mind about something, I’m changing it again. What fun it is when we give ourselves the space and permission to do so.
With love from my little corner,
Latest Stories
This vintage-inspired sunglasses brand just launched the sleekest cycling shades (Field Mag)
Nothing else yet! I’m waiting on responses to feature pitches and workshopping more to fill out my year. In the meantime, let me know if you have an interesting story about a person in the outdoors, sustainable materials, agriculture and climate, etc.
February Mood
Monthly Curiosities
Reading: Recollections of My Nonexistence by Rebecca Solnit. I’m taking this one slow in order to savor every sentence. Like this gem: “Change is the measure of time, and I discovered that in order to see change you had to be slower than it, and that by living in one place for a quarter century, it became visible to me.” Also cracked open the second ACOTAR book. A total contrast to Solnit, but I love the magic of the world Sarah J. Maas builds.
Listening: I’m Glad My Mom Died by Jennette McCurdy on audiobook. This one has been tough to get through, but I can sense the power in her voice as she reclaims her story.
I adored the Common Shapes episode on creative seasons featuring Jacqueline Suskin.
And this song has kept me groovin’ through the winter blues.
Wearing: This cozy Lloyd toque beanie and Nonfiction perfume sampler
Making: I’m challenging myself to use up my fabric scraps, so I’ve made a bread bag, apron, quilted panels to turn into pants, and more. I started an Instagram account dedicated entirely to my sewing projects, if you want to follow along.
Cooking/Baking: Saturday White Bread, a Ken Forkish recipe. And favorites from Molly Baz’s Cook This Book include the minty meatballs and creamy tomato soup.
Subscribing: In the spirit of embracing cooking and baking, I’ve been enjoying Caroline’s
newsletter on climate-friendly baking.