one-time recipes

Over the last few years, and especially recently, I’ve found myself cooking more and more what I call one-time recipes. These recipes nourish me in ways that go beyond simply satisfying hunger, and I’d like to share their story.

mind-only

For a long time, I was a “mind-only” person. I wanted to minimize the needs of my body as much as possible. I even fantasized about pills that could replace food altogether. I didn’t want to deal with the time-consuming processes of shopping, cooking, eating, doing dishes, digesting, and so on. To make things more efficient, I created an Excel sheet of recipes to automate and control my (largely unhealthy) shopping, cooking, and eating habits. It was fun at first, but it quickly became boring.

Meanwhile, a few other things were happening. My friend Mihai introduced me to healthy eating in the context of bodybuilding, teaching me about micronutrients—proteins, fats, and carbs. I benefited from YouTube’s wealth of inspirational channels and people. Meditation practice led me toward spiritual eating, and I eventually gave up meat. My younger brother inspired me with his enthusiasm for cooking. He even gives creative names to his dishes, and his ingredients seem to have personalities—sometimes, I’m not sure if he’s talking about food or a lover! My older brother encouraged me to move away from canned and jarred products, urging me to prepare things myself. My CrossFit subscription pushed me to bring it all together. I am grateful to every one of them for their meaningful and practical contributions to my life.

creative cooking

Cooking is an act of creativity. Recipes are like poems.

These days, I don’t shop for specific recipes. Instead, I buy what’s in season and what is available at the moment of shopping. I take into account what my body desires. I use apps to make informed choices. Sometimes, I buy pre-chopped vegetables—trading convenience for cost. But mostly, I gather ingredients without knowing exactly what I’ll make.

When I begin cooking, I have no idea what I will end up with. My dish starts cooking in my head first, based on what I have in the kitchen. Even as I start taking concrete steps, things change along the way. I don’t taste what I prepare. Sometimes, I forget to add salt. That becomes part of the recipe. Overcooked, too mushy—no problem. It’s in the recipe, according to the recipe—one-time recipe. I enjoy it because I know that this is only one time. It is unique and special to me. I never feel disappointed with what’s on my plate. In fact, the act of creating it and having that final dish in front of me becomes the most delicious part of it all.

There are times I look for and try new recipes. That is still part of the creative process for me. I remain open to the influence of other creators and their creativity. In that way, I learn about new techniques, tools, principles, and ingredients—expanding the surface of my activity. What I learn from them becomes an ingredient in my own creativity. It’s like reading books, reading other people’s code, visiting other places, or having conversations.

And of course, there is dessert: peanut butter and corn waffles—a combination of creamy and crunchy. Each is great on its own, but even greater together. It is like day and night, winter and summer, joy and sorrow, birth and death. Together, they are even more beautiful, more meaningful, and tastier.

So that’s the story. It is one-time only. I know where it begins, but I don’t know where or how it will end. I adapt as it goes. Sometimes it’s too salty; sometimes there’s no salt at all. That doesn’t bother me. Cooking or living, it’s all the same to me.

It may seem chaotic because it does not follow a strict structure or a step-by-step recipe. And that’s okay. A recipe might give me control, but the principles give me freedom.

yt-music-back-me-my-freedom-avis-vox

a reflection on my resolutions


The one-recipe approach is also a great way for me to observe and apply the resolutions:

  • I take care of myself by being responsible for my body’s well-being. I am what I eat, and I eat what I cook. I cook what I shop for, and I shop based on what I earn.

  • I protect myself by consciously also allocating my resources—time, energy, and money—to my body so I can maintain balance and avoid letting any one part of me dominate. I integrate my physical needs with my intellectual, spiritual, and financial needs.

  • I speak for myself. When I neglect my body, it speaks to me. I feel irritable, tired, unproductive, and disconnected—almost numb. This is how my body communicates its needs.

  • I respect others. I am an individual made up of many components. I value my body as much as I value my mind. I listen to it attentively, understanding its needs and limits.

  • I am patient and tolerant. Sometimes I don’t want to cook, shop, or even take time to eat. I may opt for unhealthy choices or overeat. I don’t always act in the way I believe is best for my body, but I’m tolerant when I slip up. I’m patient with myself when I feel the consequences of these choices. I know I can always return to healthier habits at any time. When I am patient and tolerant, I learn from my body and its own wisdom.

  • I am grateful to myself for being kind to myself, for taking care of my needs, for respecting my own needs. I am thankful for the ability to support myself financially and physically. I appreciate the companies and people who make healthy products accessible to me, and those who share their wisdom. I’m grateful for the apps that help me make more conscious choices, and for the simple blessing of hunger and the ability to satisfy it.