Following favourite recipes.
Particularly the ones which require the individual
preparation of certain ingredients, one set at a time.
The onions must be pre-caramellized. The chicken
pieces seasoned and grilled. The garlic pieces infused with hot water, to
soften and sweeten. The eggplant blotted and salted. The tomatoes sliced into
joyful rounds. Each item prepared, and set aside.
Then the layering takes place, and you know how to do
it, what feels right, what goes where, and in what order. The optimal sequence
is inside your awareness, you have tried and tested it, and given your assent.
It’s instinct now. No need to consult the recipe. You can measure the amounts
by eye, and by touch. You can sense the time each step takes.
The vegetables and pieces of meat, all cut to the same
approximate size, are set out in a pattern as ornate as mirror work, the
colours bejewelled and the shapes harmonious, at the bottom of the heavy, round
pan. Then the fragrant, saffron-stained spiced rice is packed on top, and all
is cooked on high heat till the rice boils and softens. For as long as it takes
to clear the kitchen surfaces, and lay the table with clean plates and assemble
small vases of fresh flowers, and to make a cucumber and yoghurt accompaniment,
and put flatware and drinking glasses around each setting, and stand back and
see if everything is right.
As you finish, the dish is complete. One pot, with
everything in it. A feast, where the guests are favoured. No empty chairs at
the table where this meal will be shared. Full plates. The chaos of the world
outside recedes, against the onslaught of this domestic radiance. The
completeness of the feeling helps to heal the brokenness the human race daily
experiences.
View video - https://youtu.be/inE0BM2-ZYA
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