Every little thing you do

This afternoon when my son and husband asked, what's for dinner tonight, I said, "I don't know, I haven't been to the market yet." They looked confused, and no wonder, this is so different for me, Today, when it comes to dinner at least, we begin anew. I've had a small epiphany that will probably mean very little to anyone else. Usually when it's time to grocery shop, I start nagging and cajoling everyone to help me think of meals. What do you feel like having? What sounds good? Think of something, I'm tapped out! The epiphany came to me on a particularly desperate evening. I've been doing this dinner thing exactly backwards. Instead of trying to conjure up something to cook, how about going to the market and/or the farm stand seeing what looks good, and simply cook that. Cook in season. I know, it's certainly not a new concept, and it's essentially what good cooks, great chefs and health conscious eaters have done all along, but I've only trifled with the idea. I've never abandoned all planning and recipes and lists and simply gone to see what there is to be had. And why not? The thought of entering the grocery store without an ironclad list is a source of great fear and loathing for me. It's such domestic drudgery constantly having to shop for food, put the food away, cook the food, clean up after the food and plan the next episode of food. Ack! Going at it without a solid plan may lead to aimless, brain dead wandering in a giant store with an overwhelming array of choices--just more time wasted on the food. No wonder the joy has gone out of cooking. But what if it wasn't like that? That's the question I'm always asking these days. How could it (or anything) be different. Hardship or delight? Ordeal or adventure? It's a choice. In the midst of contemplating this change of perspective, Mary Ann called and told me about two recent trips she made to her farmers market. The first she undertook in a hassle-haired, beset frame of mind and ended up scouring through the stands, clutching her bag in folded arms, reticent and just unable to interact with the vendors for whatever reason that day. Needless to say, it was a bust. The next time though, she purposely set out with an open and inquisitive intent and, poof, the drudgery was transformed to delight. What had been a challenging chore, this time turned into a rich and enjoyable experience. So tonight, I shopped for food as though it was a fun escapade. No preconceived notions, no angst, no list. The colors, textures and aromas in my market basket were beautiful: bright green organic broccoli, yellow and white bicolor corn, orange, red and yellow mini peppers, a fragrant Dulcinea melon, smooth little yukon golds, and a deep cassis-colored local zinfandel.The epiphany is really this: there isn't enough life left to waste it resenting our daily repetitive tasks. Bon Appetite! MK