Me and Lina were supposed to have a birthday party together, but ended up cancelling it last minute. Neither of us could simply muster up the energy to host.
Instead, I invited my two oldest and closest friends over for dinner. Because cooking, for me, when done with time and purpose, carries no stress. It is like meditation. The more complicated, the better. Making the aubergine sweat, then frying it, while the garlic is roasted and the tomato sauce simmers. Separating the yolks from the whites for the dessert, a meticulousness that calms my nerves.
And the act of cooking for someone you care about. I think it was Lotta Lundgren who said it on the radio once, that preparing a meal for someone is the ultimate act of love. The time and effort I put into the preparations, and then: this is what will become the blood and bones of the person who eats it. Something mundane, everyone has to eat, it’s literaly what we need to survive. But also: something so incredibly intimate, me being part of someone else’s survival.
I like cooking and baking, because I enjoy the activity in itself, of working with my hands, creating textures and smells and tastes. But I also like cooking for people. Of knowing that this is going to become part of their bodies, that hopefully it will give them a little piece of a simple pleasure and a tiny bit more strength on their path through life. That I was allowed to be part of that.
Food. It is basic and it is mundane. But it is also beautiful and at the core of being a human being.
Katja Malmborg 