It is days like today when writing a blog post seems impossible. I have no inspiration, no pictures, nothing. I am surrounded by an unfinished to-do list, piles of junk that need to be put away and a batch of cauliflower soup simmering away on the stove.
I am fixated on the soup, on its smell, its taste, each carrot that was diced and tossed inside. Cooking relaxes me; I love nothing more than to lose myself in my kitchen. But today I struggled. I looked at those heads of cauliflower and stalks of celery and was throughly annoyed. When I started cooking I did not want to; it gave no pleasure. Instead I wanted to surf the internet, read books to Elisabeth and enjoy the quiet of a house with only two small children occupying it instead of four.
But I was committed. I had promised others I would make the soup.
So, with my inner-self protesting, I started chopping, dicing and sautéing. Once I started I lost myself in the cauliflower and tasting to get the seasoning just so.
And yet, here I sit, once again, in front of the computer. But at least now I sit here with less guilt. Now one of the major (only?) items on my to-do list for the day has been accomplished. And with two hours to spare, even! Who said procrastination was my middle name?
And, if anyone wants, this recipe for cauliflower soup, the one I am making, is especially decadent and delicious.