Finding my religion

Finding my religion
I don't have a god. 
I'm a recovering Christian. 
Species Fundamentalist.
It's a long journey, but I'm taking it one day at a time.
Strangely however, I have a shrine. 

It's a symbol of religious fidelity to my kitchen. 
A church to my devotion to food. 
And an alter to my celebration of love and caring through cooking.
San Pasqual, patron of kitchens, cooks, shepherds 
and cheerfulness who protects against a sad spirit.
San Pasqual was bought in my spiritual home of New Mexico. He sits beside the obligatory candles, some of which were gifts,  a paper crafted heart also from New Mexico, a mini bottle of Tabasco cause I do like things hot and party poppers...because every kitchen needs them and they may come in  handy for an impromptu soiree.
For me, it's the centre of my home, and it's also more than that.  It's part of my identity. 


It's fair to say, it's not all beer and skittles...but no worship comes without sacrifice right?
It can be resented weeknight dinners.
Dealing with unidentifiable sludge in the vegetable crisper is also not a high point.

 But the joy I get from my kitchen and the gifts it brings me outweighs any downside.

 These are a few of my favourite things:  
my pistachio kitchen aid;



Making Baked Orange Cheesecake for the Big Boss’ Birthday.

my collection of hard cover cookbooks; 

A selection from the library (and garden)
and except when I need to clean it, my blackcurrant glass splash back.  

 It’s where I spend a lot of my time when I’m not at work.
It's what I usually clean in the divvy up of chores. 
It's a disco dance floor when I'm cooking. At least until I crack and go dance in the loungeroom because there's more space.  You can laugh if you like, but it tells me something. This is the space where I am pretty comfortable in myself.

Strike a pose, there’s nothing to it…

You're (kitchen) disco needs you!

You know those fabulous people who draw, or make ceramics, are great at photography, can whittle a dining table or knit a wardrobe for a small nation? 
I'm not one of them.

But I can cook pretty okay. So i guess it's my art. The kitchen is my creative studio.

 It's also how I show you I love you. 

Please don't feel intimidated or obliged to reciprocate.
It's my thing and I wanna, I wanna, I wanna!

Roasting parsnip, potato, garlic, onion and cumin to make soup for Brad who’s got a sore throat. 

If it's not the home entertainment capital, it's at least pre-dinner drinks and canapés. 
More often than not, It's GET OUT OF THE WAY! when the dinner party congregates in front of cupboard doors.  

Sometimes, I can open up my inner sanctum. 
I've even cooked with others.  
Not often.  It can be hard to share.
This is a deeply personal spirituality.
If I permit you into my space, it's okay just to be there with me 
....AND NOT FREAKIN' TOUCH ANYTHING!


San Pasqual’s Holy Day is 17 May, so I’ll give him more than the normal tip of my hat today. I’ll be thinking about how important my kitchen is, and all the kitchen symbolises to me.
Where are you most at home in your home?