On evenings such as these, I watch Simba sit by the window and wonder what he’s thinking. I like to imagine that he’s plotting an epic that will one day be called the Mahabarkatha. But in reality he’s silently moaning, ‘Is it dinner time already?’
Knowing full and well that the seconds are ticking by — is it 7-o-clock already? — and I’ve got to get dinner going for him, Stella and me, I start to wonder if I my love for cooking is better expressed on a couch than a kitchen counter.
And then I ask myself, ‘Do I love the idea of cooking more than the act of cooking?’ My Pinterest board is virtual proof of my prowess over food and all the procrastination that goes with it.
But then I think about the fist time I realised I wanted to cook. It had to do with a powerful piece of pie. Freshly baked. In a country side. On Cartoon Network. I wrote about it in this piece, The Power of Pie, for Helter Skelter last year. And I remember once again why I procrastinate about cooking instead of actually cooking and decide, time’s up!
The Mahabarkatha can wait. It’s time to bake some pie.