Oddly enough I do not like to take pictures of food, though I do love to cook. I learned very little, mom was working all day long and grandma’s bones did not allow her to do much during the day, so cooking was something I had to learn, it could had been just a couple eggs and that would be it, though I preferred to do a stir fry, which grandma still loves to this day, and serve the meal.
Then came high school, it was abroad so it was either eating whatever was served in the cafeteria or up my cooking game, there I learned how to bake, how to boil because until now I was used to stir fry, a man a pot and I was happy, there I learned other things. College was a vacation for my cooking, though work soon brought back the need to prepare food.
My first work was selling wood, it was not the best salary and it was stressful, so I took cooking again, it was not only helping me save, it was helping me remain sane. All my skills now were honed into a single goal, relaxation.
Cooking is not that different from love, you do it only for people you care for in a certain degree, to nourish those near you. Though it is also there to please, to brag, to show off and of course to earn money. It has some degree of lust, of pride not only gluttony. I don’t take pictures because I don’t cook for the camera, I cook for myself, for my family and for people I care, even in that regard I am as prudish as I am in bed. After all what are Chefs but Porn Stars for their own particular type of porn?
Editorial 