No rest for the wicked

It's late or early, depends on how you view the clock. For me it's late... It's late and I can't sleep. The pillows are too soft, the bed is too hard, I need a drink of water - I can't shut down my brain. That's the hard one.

What's got me all riled up you ask... Politics, Religion, work life, social life or lack there of? D - None of the above...

What's got me all twisted in knots tonight is the realization that while I really love food, love to eat, what I love more is the process. Turning raw pork belly into bacon - or asparagus, butter and lemon into something that made my father say "WOW!" - hearing a friend "mmmmm" over black walnut cherry ice cream. More than eating, I love making... It's always been more fun to cook for others. To feed people.

I have that desire or disease to pull a "Buford", pack up my shit and head to Tuscany, meet Dario and the Maestro, eat some steak. But sadly I don't think I have the huevos to do something so radical. I have gotten kinda comfortable with my life. Maybe that's my problem. Why I can't sleep...

I have always claimed that I didn't want to be a culinary professional. Maybe I have been lying to myself. I love to feed people.

Maybe my ADD affected brain just gets bored to easily and cooking is one of those things that you can never totally master. You might be able to master a method, but you will never master all the variations.

Now that I paddled down that steam of consciousness, maybe I can sleep - or I might just lie here thinking about the "Possibilities".

Don't that just mess with your head.

Night all

Chris