Eat Drink Man Weblog

Wherein our hero composes a brief manifesto on the virtues of cooking, justifying his weblog.

Of all the niggling demands our bodies place on us, the need for food holds a special place in my heart. Don’t get me wrong: it’s hard to beat a good shelter. Owning a pot to piss in is huge win in anybody’s book. And establishing social groups and breeding pairs is a terrific use of a weekend. Cooking simply packs a punch that’s hard to match.

I can’t think of another human endeavor that so gracefully ties together a disparate collection of disciplines that make healthier, more fulfilled human beings. Cooking for yourself, you control what goes into your body. Your taste buds revel in custom-tailored flavor profiles even as your general health enjoys regulated nutrition. Controlling what food you buy helps you manage your impact on our planet’s resources. Cooking offers profound social opportunities – food binds you to your family, your ancestry, and your countrymen.

Once a year my family gets together for a Ukrainian Christmas eve feast. I cook prune pierogies with my mom. Somehow the stress of the holidays seems lessened when I think about my family being forced to eat prune pierogies. I sit down with my extended family over a brown tablescape of boiled dough, mushroom soup, and fermented cabbage, and I feel a direct connection to my ancestors. Once a year I take an edible time machine to a world before refrigeration.

The most famous avenues to dopamine release lie in sex, music, and drugs — terrific fun, all three. But you shouldn’t bond with your family over your sex life. It’s hard to look after your planet by regulating which music you listen to. And the all the really good drugs are on the black market. When I cook, I am a better steward of my body and my planet, a better son to my mother, a better member of my extended family, and a more esteemed member of my peer group. Step off, sex, drugs, and rock and roll. I’m a cook.