Risotto and I

I made a perfect mushroom risotto tonight. Yes, I did. And my stupid fucking keyboard just deleted my entire post. Fuck. Honestly, just fuck!! Well, back to the risotto. It was perfect. A delicious blend of flavours, the capabilities of Arborio rice to absorb and absorb, and communicated such wonderful tastes is really amazing. Cooking is a great experience, an exercise in creativity, control, rolling with the punches, lack of control, a place where mistakes can be celebrated and often turn out for the best. Like spilling 1/2 cup of chicken stock because of the prime difficulty in pouring stock from a pot without a handle into a measuring cup which then must be poured into another pot (with handle). Turns out 1 1/2 cups of chicken stock is the perfect amount for my risotto, not 2 cups. It isn't often in life that so-called mistakes, flubs, fuck-ups, accidents are often the opposite: wonderful surprises, fortuituous, and joyful. Add in a nice fresh salad to start and a vanilla candle burning on the table, it was quite pleasant. I still think a lot about hollandaise sauce and artichokes. Once I have some cash. I'm know working for the Vancouver Farmers' Markets three days a week: two markets and then in the office. I've been hired by the Chan Centre for the Performing Arts. There is light on the horizon. I hope I get to the horizon soon, or the sun just rises really fast, or whatever other appropriate metaphor works here. In the meantime, I'll console myself with making great wheat-free, gluten-free recipes and enjoy the fall bounty at the markets. And flip the bird to my former employer.