Even the most motivated and doting new mothers around know that there are some mornings that one cup of coffee isn't doing the trick and the thought of hearing the food processor whirring at its eardrum-splitting decibel level sends a shiver down the back of your neck. Most days you do it anyway because, well, you love your baby and the look on their face when they hear the screeching devil machine is just too much to take:
I feel more comfortable in the kitchen than in any other room. For me it is where I can be an artist, take out aggression, practice aromatherapy, find solace in the methodical chopping and slicing, be silly with my daughter, make a mess, reflect on days past, envision tomorrow, come to conclusions, or simply live in the moment. There is something gratifying in that every ingredient, every stir, and every degree of temperature plays an important role in a very tangible and satisfying (or not so satisfying) outcome. Maybe it's a control thing. The end result is in my hands and I have the power to steer it in any direction I wish. This is the part where I could become annoyingly philosophical and compare the many ingredients in a meal to "success being the sum of small efforts in yourself and society" or some such nonsense, but let's cut the crap. I love to eat. I love to try new things. I love my daughter. I love that she's an infant and everything she tries is new. Cooking is a way to incorporate all of these things, and at the end of the day I feel cleansed.
I hope that you all enjoy and actively participate in my and Piper's gastrointestinal escapades. I will include adult food recipes, baby food recipes, tips, shortcuts, step-by-step instructions with pictures, and let's not forget personal reflections. This is a blog after all. You will read them, and you will like it.
