Imagine taking the ingredients for a dish, very specific ingredients, and taking the whole notion of slow cooking to a painstakingly drawn out, almost unfathomable level. Sure, it’s not as protracted as cellaring wine or making balsamic vinegar, but this current cooking project has been poaching away for the past 6 months or so at the ambient temperature of 37°C with another few months to go. An undertaking which involves a gradually expanding product, much like bread dough, which is so much greater than the sum of its original microscopic ingredients.
Any motivation to cook disappeared long ago as there is simply no energy nor inspiration. This, coupled with the food precautions recommended to pregnant women is rather frustrating. I’m not missing any specific foods as yet, though I think I miss the freedom of not having to worry about avoiding certain foods. Friends and family have recommended enjoying the last of our time as a couple and go out on fine-dining dates, but you would not believe the amount of food which is not pregnant-friendly when you sit down and think about it!
But I guess a question which is more food for thought is how we will raise this mini human in terms of attitudes towards food? In a day and age where there are more choices than ever, and more processed food than ever, how will we raise them to be discerning without being discriminatory or snobbish? Will I stock our fridge with plastic cheese, like my parents did, and make them wonder why it doesn’t melt with any sort of stretchiness?
Only time will tell. In the meantime...