There is so much pressure on us to reach happiness. I like the idea of reaching that moment of contentness. I know thats not really a word but I like it just the same. Not wanting for anything else, being in a place where everything fits into place. Surely thats something to aim for.
There are days when things don’t go right. We all have those. Unavoidable.
There are days when things go right. Golden.
For me food isn’t just a comfort. I take care in it’s process. I think about all the elements that have come together to form something that tastes good. Good enough to make me smile, and sometimes even make little yum noises (totally manly of course). Little moments when I feel content. I grew that, or I foraged that, or I made that.
A few little moments of food ‘content-ness’ lately. I roasted some saffron milk cap wild mushrooms, and conjured up a mushroom stroganoff sauce, with plenty of chilli, garlic and diced chorizo, cooked in a white wine, butter and philly cheese sauce. Oh hello. I roasted the mushrooms with come garlic and thyme and spooned the stroganoff sauce over each roasted beauty. Divine.
A pumpkin gnocchi with a four cheese sauce, totally indulgent, totally worth it. Each little gnocchi was an odd shape, different than the mouthful before….some where funny looking, but the meal made me content for that moment. That made me happy.