Seaweed Soup, Rice, Anchovies, Mackerel.
I’ve been obsessed with Mackerel lately and it seems to find its way onto each and every plate that requires any rice. I will be doing an episode of the Stir Fried Anchovies either today or tomorrow, and the Seaweed Soup is also something I intend on making for an episode as well. It’s been added to my list–a list that seems to eternally grow. When I first began Youtube, I was afraid that I would run out of material. Ah–NO. My poor little notebook now sags with its heavy load of scribbled chicken scratch. Anything will provide bursts of inspiration. A smell, a color, even a feeling.
When I was little, the Parental Units forced me to take Music Lessons. One of them was Piano. I dreaded going. Needless to say, my Teachers did not find a stubborn, strong willed little girl to be a pleasant pupil. I had one teacher that seemed so exasperated that she was beside herself. One day, she comes in with a bundle of colored Pencils and a bright smile so unlike her usual flustered self…she told me that this particular day, we wouldn’t be tinkering with the keys at all. Instead, she wanted me to sit before sheets of music and above the bars, shade in what color I felt that particular bit felt like to me. That day, emotions echoed in Royal Shades of Purple, angry smears of Garnet, lush and bountiful leaves of Mint…I mean that was a cool session. I didn’t have to focus on clumsy fingers fumbling about or trying to remember some stupid Acronym–All Cows [apparently] Eat Grass, lol.
My point of it all is, that for me, most things in life have a tangible connection to them. The smell of Plastic Building Blocks takes me back to 5 year old me, clutching them in Kindergarten, desperately trying to scan my brain for a reason not to share, LOL. When I smell Bohleecha brewing, it reminds me of Mom. Her smile. Her laugh.
I suppose that’s the reason I do not find being in the Kitchen to be a chore. Holding different ingredients in my hands, sends a message to my brain about something wonderful associated with it. Then, my Brain and Heart go off to gossip about it. Even something as mundane and ordinary as chopping Celery provides such a crispy and juicy crunch each and every time the knife meets the board. Each and every ingredient also so freely provides an individual perfume of their own. The Kitchen is like my very own Symphony. The entertainment is free and the quality is always guaranteed.