Apron strings

The kitchen adventures continued tonight for better or for worse. I'm glad that Ethan is so patient with me, since things come and go. I overdid the mustard, gave the sauce a serious kick in the end (it's for your sinuses, I tell him, I'm just trying to clear them out for you, get your cold better). A less than perfect attempt tonight, following a mediocre stab at two Yan recipes last week and an excellent first try at lamb. I wonder sometimes at how satisfying I find mixing and chopping and stirring and watching. I spend as much time (or more) picking something new and then worrying about it as I do actually making preparations and assembling the final product. I suppose food is a way I define myself, and I am afraid when I try something new (or err in an old favorite) that somehow I may be defamed. Negative face, they say in politeness studies; that's not quite appropriate here but it is what comes to mind. I am not sure if it is always more about gaining positive face or avoiding negative - one would hope the former but surely it must depend on my state of mind, the expectations, the excitement. Tomorrow I hope to redeem myself fully with some time-honored classic - a burger and fries and a pitcher of cider, shuffleboard and pool. You can always pay someone else for satisfaction.