In a kind of oven is where I find myself: cooking over low heat, putting the ingredients myself. The first ingredient is the feeling of adventure, then a spoon of uncertainty and covered with a sprinkle of “everything is gonna be alright”.
And you begin to give it shape, trying to be in harmony with the environment, until you realise it’s just for you. That the plate is a little broken, is beginning to peel off the edges and you do not know if you want to fix it or change it with a new one. Maybe the fire is just too high and you need to lower it a little, so it does not burn.
Or maybe for a moment you just need to leave the oven go to the sea, to swim with turtles and to immerse yourself in other flavours, different from those that normally surround you. Yes… I think that’s a good option, take a break and let the mosquitoes taste you, make a 100-guests banquet out of my back, arms and legs (a few disoriented guests go all up to the neck).
Now, in addition to scratching myself or trying not to do it, I’m taking out other flavors that have been enhanced by the salt water and by the views of a jungle until now unknown. With more calm and conscience the fire comes out of the wood and not from the gas, it is rediscovering its natural elements and can add spices and pepper with care without pouring the sauce outside the pot. I’m recomposing myself in my form and I’m ready to go back to the oven and continue cooking the main course.
The spoon with which I stir is made of wood and in its veins a soil is drawn that you already feel like yours. You have to let it turn, but slowly, you have to set the pace and sometimes the limits not to get dizzy from this delicacy.
Sometimes you may wish to see it on the table and feel it in your stomach, but no, there are still 4 months left to simmer and many ingredients to get to know, selecting and adding to taste what will be one of the tastiest dishes of your life.