Food is an interesting topic. It is a necessity, but it is also one of the basest pleasures in life. All cultures share in it. They may use different meals, but the concept is the same. And at times, it can be a connection between those cultures, even if they are eons apart in every other aspect.
Personally, I see food as an art. I love food. I love manipulating it. I love the concept of it as a renewal source. A pleasure that never steals from you, but only gives. Even sex takes, but food does not. Energy, life, muscle, bone, skin; all of these require and use food. It is the building block for our very being.
And with that understanding, I feel that cooking and then consuming food can be a very spiritual experience. I love the romance that is formend between the chemistry of two ingredients. Like onions and butter, when placed in a bed of heat, exudes sugars and oils, which dance around the pan, softening and sweetening each other. Then if you were to add an acidic, like fresh, diced tomatoes, the entire composition of the meal changes. The acid breaks down the onions even more, creating something completely altered, unable to ever be reformed again. A small demise and rebirth.
The death of the separate ingredients allows for a new creation to emerge, all born by the “midwife” fire. The affair is beautiful and intricate. When I cook, I play with life in a way that I cannot fully comprehend, and yet I can see it unfold. And when I eat, I absorb that creation and make it one with myself. In a way, the death and the renewal becomes me, and I grow stronger because of it.