I can relate to this so much. Ever since I moved to Japan, there has been pleasure-cooking and some pressure-cooking. Ordering out is not very common in Japan, you just go out and eat or cook(instant cooking is a hit). As I like sending postacards, sketching and writing, I decided to do a postcards from my kitchen series, where I wrote 10 postcards. I sketched what I cooked. I drew and colored the ingredients. I wrote the recipe (very rough like the biriyani masala packet, mostly forgetting or skipping some important step), in some postcardsI didnt write the recipe, I just wrote why I liked a particular dish and how I was feeling that day. Alone in my one room hostel room, I would have fun with all the senses. I would enjoy 'creation' of food, drawings, my postcard and pin it on my wall.
As the president of Procrastinator association, I only sent out the postcards after more than one year. They were stuck on my wall from May 2020 to Oct 2021. They are out there somewhere, I am hoping someone is cooking what I once cooked . In a very different and weird sense of space and time, we are sharing a meal through the senses/feelings it brought/brings, though we may have never even met!
Such a beautiful essay. Lovely to find your writing again.
I can relate to this so much. Ever since I moved to Japan, there has been pleasure-cooking and some pressure-cooking. Ordering out is not very common in Japan, you just go out and eat or cook(instant cooking is a hit). As I like sending postacards, sketching and writing, I decided to do a postcards from my kitchen series, where I wrote 10 postcards. I sketched what I cooked. I drew and colored the ingredients. I wrote the recipe (very rough like the biriyani masala packet, mostly forgetting or skipping some important step), in some postcardsI didnt write the recipe, I just wrote why I liked a particular dish and how I was feeling that day. Alone in my one room hostel room, I would have fun with all the senses. I would enjoy 'creation' of food, drawings, my postcard and pin it on my wall.
As the president of Procrastinator association, I only sent out the postcards after more than one year. They were stuck on my wall from May 2020 to Oct 2021. They are out there somewhere, I am hoping someone is cooking what I once cooked . In a very different and weird sense of space and time, we are sharing a meal through the senses/feelings it brought/brings, though we may have never even met!