Lumiere, the whisper of cells
The chill in the air makes me realize how much colder it has gotten. The way the light streams through the window—a fresh, clear light tinged with blue. It is that transparent light telling me that winter is steadily approaching.
To warm my chilled body from the inside out, I stand in front of the kitchen stove to get something to eat. When it gets cold, I really feel how much time I spend standing in front of the fire in the kitchen. I casually, carelessly toss potatoes, eggs, natural cheese, and rosemary into the frying pan and mash them together. Aiming purely for the flavor I want to eat right at this very moment, it is a completely self-indulgent, custom-made dish. There is no recipe, and there are no borders. I’m not basing it on any particular local cuisine, of course, though I wonder if there’s a regional dish somewhere out just like this. At present, relying solely on my own sense of taste, I simply bring it closer to what I crave. Surely, the defining elements of this single plate are the potatoes and the fresh, fragrant aroma of rosemary. And above all, it is the saltiness and savory punch of the natural cheese that pulls the whole dish together with a crisp finish.
My body is still cold to the core. So, I decide to pour milk into a small saucepan and toss in some cocoa. Then, from the spice rack, I throw in ginger, cayenne pepper, cloves, and cardamom one after another, finishing it off with a generous pour of heavy cream. Pure white steam rises from the pot.
The scent of spices tickles my nostrils and warms my throat, stimulating all five senses. Right after saltiness, this is how I crave spices. It is probably because my pleasure-seeking cells are calling out in a quiet voice, “Give it to me, give it to me." While I still believe that salt is the ultimate deciding factor in the flavor of any dish, spices are undeniably what enrich our lives. After all, humanity even waged wars over these spices in the past.
Now, warmed from within, I'm relaxing with a velvety ease.
