Why It’s so hard to cook for yourself
The thought of cooking as a love language should already be included in the list alongside acts of service, words of affirmation, physical touch, etc. The laborious work of love and thought put into a dish, as well as seeing how it’s being appreciated and applauded by family and friends, is definitely a scene I would put into play if somebody asks me how I show my appreciation to my loved ones.
Isn’t this a form of self-care? Don’t I deserve a nice home-cooked meal? If it’s the arduous task of cooking, don’t we put a ton of work and/or punishment on ourselves when we work out, incorporate our five- to ten-step daily skin care routine, etc.?
But there is a different take when it comes to cooking for myself. Eating great food alone outside by myself? For sure. But cooking it? I almost always will never do it, and I don’t know why. I’m fine eating leftovers and putting them in the microwave, then throwing them on a paper plate so that I don’t have to do the dishes.
Don’t get me wrong. I am for self-care. And I love cooking as much as the next home cook, but I think they would also agree that they don’t get as motivated to cook if it’s not for someone else. I actually don’t have the answer to this question, but my best guess is cooking food is one of those activities that is best shared with someone else.
On one of my foodcast episodes, I’ve talked to Gino, and we mentioned about how cooking, eating, and drinking as a communal activity has a profound effect to the whole experience. The raw, elegant, and sometimes poetic process of putting food in our mouths while in conversation with other people takes this activity from being a biological need to fuel our bodies to something even more than just that.
It may be just me exaggerating it because I love food so much, but I bet that you’ll go through the topsy-turvy process of cleaning up dirty dishes after a meal if you cooked it and shared it with someone else.
