Help with a lack of inspiration in the kitchen

[maggiethecat]

The kitchen and cooking have been primary sources of inspiration, consolation and education since I was, oh, about eight years old. As a bride, I cooked my way through "Mastering the Art." As a teen, I worked through "Joy.' As a kiddie, I splattered through "The Sunbeam Mixmaster Cookbook." I can honestly say that I'm an excellent and fearless home cook -- Asian, British, French, Italian, sweet, savory, you name it. (I would never cut it in a restaurant kitchen. I know my place.)

I haven't cooked jack in a month, except for eggs, carrot cupcakes and blueberry muffins. The bakery items were to take to work for mandated Food Days.

I feel as if I never want to cook again. Me! Incroyable.

Here's the backstory: I spent April, May, June and half of July at my parents, cooking for my family as my mother died. Mummy was easy -- half an Ensure, a bowl of leek and potato soup, chocolate and martinis. In the endgame of cancer, that wasn't enough, but it was all she fancied.

Thing is, I had to cook, shop and plan for three meals a day for four to six other people, all day, every day. At home, we're dinner-centric, take breakfast and lunch on the well-planned run and devote our cooking props to dinner. I couldn't do that at home:Mummy had standards. The table was set with Georgian sterling and vintage linen for every meal. My mother was an excellent, adventurous cook who would visit six grocery stores for the perfect bunch of watercress.

So, lunch had repeats, but in a hundred days of dinner I repeated only twice. I went through my mother's cookbook collection, and got some respect for Jamie Oliver. I went on line for recipes. I pulled the recipe card thingie from the June "Martha Stewart Living" and cooked all four pretty cards.

Because my mother made dessert every night (just like Martha, come to think of it!) for the first time in my life I had to come up with a sweet course. Every night. (Buying that bottle of Creme de Menthe was smart.)

Then there were the tea parties for visiting friends.

I was lucky that Ottawa has a great farmer's market, great butchers and fishmongers and raw milk Quebec cheese. I was lucky that my father could hand me a wad of bills every other day: my housekeeping money. I didn't have to skimp

I stopped cooking the day my mother died in the living room, while I was grocery shopping for dinner.

I'm lucky to be married to a good cook. If I weren't it would be Stouffer's Mac and Cheese every night. Scrambled eggs. Tuna salad sandwiches.

How do I get the joy back? Without my life in the kitchen I feel as if half of me has been chopped off. I hate hating to Cook.

[rooftop1000]

Sit down have a martini and think of your mothers favorites...the real treasures...and then go cook

tracey

[tsquare]

Give yourself a good rest.

Then, buy a cookware thing you always wanted but couldn't justify and play with getting to know it.

Or buy some ridiculously expensive ingredients.

Take a class.

Travel somewhere new with a cuisine.

But what do I know - I rarely cook anymore myself - alpha chef in the house has made it seem silly for me to bother. Too busy anyway.

[Marlene]

Oh Maggie. I get this. I did the same thing whilst my brother was dying and then my mother, this past year. Afterwards, I felt like I never wanted to cook again. I've already abdicated Christmas this year, as I won't have a family to cook for. We're traveling this year for the first time.

It comes back. The joy of cooking. It just does. Don't force it, don't look for it. Don't hold your breath every day in anticipation that all of a sudden you'll want to pick up a chef's knife again. But one day, without even knowing it, you'll start to embrace the joy of cooking again. There's no timeframe and no rules to this one, I'm afraid. In the meantime, swill martini's and let hubby do the kitchen duty.

Next week will be the first anniversary of my brother's passing. His favourite thing in the whole world was raspberry pie. I suck at pie making, but I'm going to make one to honour him.

Maybe think about your mom's favourite dish and try making that. Tears may flow, tis true. But there will also be the bond of making something that she truly loved. As it will be for me next week. My pie may be flavoured with tears, but they will be tears of love and we will savour every bite. You will too, one day again.

[SundaySous]

My condolences about your mother.

You need to eat about dozen meals at places like Bennigans. And order the stuff you like and know they don't make the way you like. Go to some of those restaurants you swore you would never return to and order the $22 pasta you wouldn't even feed a cat you don't like.

Usually does it for me.

[srhcb]

Then again, maybe you won't want to cook again?

My Mother cooked virtually every day for nearly 60 years. She was a great cook, and many others relied on her for advice. She enjoyed cooking, reading about cooking, and talking about cooking.

Since my Father died a year and a half ago she hasn't cooked a thing. Nothing. Not even made toast or coffee.

Her apartment has a complete kitchen which only gets used when my Sister visits. Otherwise Mom eats in her complex's dining room or has her meals delivered. She seems happy enough otherwise, so we don't interfere with her decision.

Cooking for, (ie: caring for), others can be a complex emotional issue.

I'm glad you were able to help your family and have someone to cook/care for you now. I hope you either regain joy in cooking, or else find something else equally as fulfilling.

[maggiethecat]

Then again, maybe you won't want to cook again?

←

You see, that's what scares me shitless. I cook therefore I am.

Unless I win a boatload of money through the Illinois lottery (I have never bought a ticket) I can't progress from cook to gourmande diner-out. I can't imagine a life with no cooking. I write about cooking. I encourage others to write about cooking in my job here at eGullet.

The Bennigan's cure is intriguing. If I had the bucks it might work. I think about the brilliant Mark Twain piece The Appetite Cure If you haven't read it, here's your chance. Smoking and reading were permitted during the Appetite Cure. I've taken one up again (Stupid. bang head!) and I read a book and a half a day.

But it isn't about appetite. I have appetite. I just can't cook.

[Dante]

I've occasionally recharged by going to a food festival (seeing what the area has to offer always inspires me). Farmer's Markets can be nice inspirations too. Try just going out somewhere and basking in what resources you have available to you.

My other recharges in the past have been largely accidental- stumbling on to some new paradigm that drags me in and veritably forces me to explore it.

Sincerely,

Dante

[Lilija]

You went through major stresses, these past few months, and a lot of cooking, both. Stressful cooking during a difficult, trying time. No wonder you don't want to.

Maybe just don't for awhile. Let yourself come back to it. It's high summer, even the most enthusiastic cook would be hesitant to get in the kitchen and whip up a 9 course meal. When the weather cools down, and life continues to normalize, see if you don't get the itch to get back in there, and create.

[SundaySous]

I thinking betty may be able to help, do you have cheddar cheese available?

[NimaCooks]

Dear Maggie,

In addition to the emotional exhaustion of losing a loved one, I imagine you're dealing with some mental fatigue of cooking. It seems that the additional pressure of the volume, frequency and variety of those 3 months has in some ways taken away the joy of cooking(please pardon the pun) for you. From that perspective, I think the break isn't such a bad thing. My advice would be to take the time to recuperate and recharge. When my father lost his mother after a long illness, it took him about a year to get back to form. You shouldn't feel the need to rush it.

When you feel ready, the first step would be to try to find a new spin on cooking. I understand this may seem difficult at first as you have explored many avenues and seem to be rather accomplished in the kitchen, but the goal is to try to break the association of cooking with such a sad memory and revisit what made you have such a deep love for it. I like the idea of taking a culinary vacation and taking classes in south france, italy, india, thailand, or anywhere you find interesting, exotic and new. Exploring new markets and kitchens with fresh colors, aromas and flavors might help break the funk and reawaken the desire within. Another option might be to teach someone how to cook. Witnessing the joy on someone's face after getting a recipe right might remind you of your own experiences learning to cook.

I'm sorry to hear about your mother's passing. This has undoubtedly been a trying time for you and I wish you all the best.

[Pierogi]

It comes back.  The joy of cooking.  It just does.  Don't force it, don't look for it.  Don't hold your breath every day in anticipation that all of a sudden you'll want to pick up a chef's knife again.  But one day,  without even knowing it, you'll start to embrace the joy of cooking again.  There's no timeframe and no rules to this one, I'm afraid.  In the meantime, swill martini's and let hubby do the kitchen duty. 

What she said.

Like you, and Marlene, and countless others, I went through the same things when my parents died. My mother, who I lost 4 years later than Daddy, was the hardest too, because she'd been THE COOK. With her, I watched Julia, and the Galloping Gourmet, and Jaques and the Frugal Gourmet and so many more. And from her I learned how to make someone feel deeply, profoundly and completely, envelopingly loved by the offer of food that has been lovingly prepared.

While she was dying, I cooked like a madwoman. I'd eat dinner at midnight (having to be at work at 8 a.m.) because I HAD TO COOK.

After........well, I ate a lot of frozen pizzas, and Mickey D's and Kraft mac 'n' cheese. Oddly enough, I still cooked for friends. I have one friend who I've known since high school. During this time, we were both betwixt and between SOs. Every Saturday night Vicki came for dinner. Every Saturday night I blew out the stops. That sort of helped. And sort of didn't. I threw away a lot of food in those days.......

But one day, one day....I got a craving. For something Mom used to make. And through tears, using her old pans & recipe, I made it. It was good. And then, gradually, it was all good. Or mostly good.

Give yourself some space and time and it will come. It will come as an epiphany. One day it will be right, and it will feel that way. Until then, lean on hubby. Right now you are associating the act of cooking with a) grief and loss and b) duty. Let time bring you back to the joy...

ETA---hugs Maggie. Hang in there.

Edited August 13, 2007 by Pierogi (log)

[Marky Marc]

You posting this here make me wonder if you want to cook more than you currenty think you do. If you didn't then why would you bother bringing it up?

I hope I don't come off as callous but I imagine you've got the want in you already.

Edited August 13, 2007 by Marky Marc (log)

[Bueno]

Maggie, have you been unable to find joy in any of the other things you [previously] enjoyed doing? I ask because maybe this isn't specifically cooking-focused. Maybe you're depressed. Are you in favour of, or have considered looking into anti-depressents and/or therapy?

If this doesn't apply - I'd suggest taking a cooking course. Having to pay (and thus, not waste) money will help you from bailing out. And having someone else slowly guide and semi-control you in the kitchen is a good way to take some of the anxiety of it away. Sort of like someone else is doing half the "work" for you. Plus, you'll be around people that have a real interest and passion for food, and that could contribute to re-igniting the fire within.

[Anna N]

Give yourself some space and time, Maggie. You've been through hell and now you need to wander in some green pastures for a while.

Cooking kept away the bogeymen for a long time for you. You need to get past that and the fact that your Mom died while you were grocery shopping proved that even cooking couldn't keep the bogyemen away for ever.

Cooking on a pretty much unlimited budget seems like a dream come true, but there's no real challenge there. You were accustomed to being creative and creativity is dependent on limitations!

Leave the cookbooks alone, leave the cooking shows alone. Indulge yourself in other ways. Either the desire will return or you will find fulfillment in other ways.

I wish you joy and peace and I know you will find them in time.

[nibor]

Lack of interest in pursuits you normally enjoy is one of the #1 symptoms of depression. So this is normal, having just lost your mom, if you want to look at it that way.

We four kids lost interest in very different (and often unexpected) things after our mom died. Some of those pleasures came back in time, but others still have not, six years down the line. My only hope is that as life continues to chip away at me, such losses don’t accumulate faster than new interests arise. My elderly father says "good luck with that...."

[SuzySushi]

Sounds like you need time to grieve, dear, more than you need to force yourself to cook. The joy will come back, it really will, but on its on time and own terms.

As Anna N said, the fact that your mom died when you were out grocery shopping is a heavy emotional hurdle to cross. My father died while I was flying 5,000 miles to see him. My husband's mother died during the few minutes he left her side to use the bathroom. It seems so unfair that we weren't around to prevent Death from taking them! But, if you look at it another way, maybe they were waiting for us to leave to release them.

Food, and cooking, are so wrapped up in our emotions. Go with the flow.

[christine007]

I do hope you feel better soon. Know that we feel your pain.

while my dad was ill, I made him peanut butter cookies once a week. He passed In January of 2005. I have not made cookies since. I still cook, but it's going on for three years since I baked any cookies.

We will heal. Time is our best friend.

[sparrowgrass]

Ah, Maggie--no advice, just a long distance hug.

Take care of yourself, eat what your sweetie fixes, read your books.

You will cook again someday, when the time is right.

Probably when that first cold front blows in from Canada, and you get the craving for fresh bread and braised whatever.

[MarketStEl]

I don't know what I can say that hasn't been said already, but at least allow me to express my sympathy over your loss.

It does sound to me like the sort of depression that accompanies a significant traumatic event; it's similar to the more general variety, with which I have had intimate experience. If there are other activities that give you pleasure, try engaging in some of them while you wait for the connection between cooking and your mother's passing to dissolve.

I'm sure the culinary muse will find its way back to you. Even though this is much more serious than writer's block, it's similar in its trajectory, and one day, when you are ready, the way forward will reveal itself to you.

[hummingbirdkiss]

I empathize and send my compassion ....time will heal this I promise

I went a very similar event a few years back and ..honestly.. ...grief is a process... it took a while to get back to "normal" but it happened ..and it will for you ..

hugs to you and I am sorry for your loss really I do understand ...

Edited August 13, 2007 by hummingbirdkiss (log)

[Carrot Top]

Cooking can be a part of creating a world that one believes in. It can be a closely held ritual that's also a sort of art in daily life. The world can be painted, and not just in flavors colors and aromas, with what we cook, within the worlds we hold close. And when the world goes topsy-turvy, when the world has betrayed us, the canvas may as well be ripped to shreds.

Which means the cooking attached to the thing(s) we loved that have gone topsy-turvy has betrayed us also. It feels tainted and non-trustworthy. It did not keep things safe, in the way we hope it will in some deep secret part of us, as we will it to every day.

Luckily today there are many ways to eat though they may not all be what we really want. These are a boon though they may not be perfection.

Cats have the right idea. When injured, they curl up softly and breathe deeply within themselves quietly, while not doing all the usual busy cat-like things till they are again definitely ready to. It is honorable, what cats do, for it is a sort of full acceptance of the injury doled out along with the neccesary patience being given to the time healing can take.

I raise a glass to your mother, Maggie.

If you cook again, she will be proud.

If you don't, she still will be proud.

Edited August 13, 2007 by Carrot Top (log)

[Kouign Aman]

Time, breathing, not worrying about it. Burn-out and grief together can really blunt the attraction of an activity.

or

another possible route is to rebuild the habit. Mechanically assign yourself something to cook everyday. Be sous to your husband, or take over some aspect of dinner. Sometimes 'just do[ing] it' does reignite a spark.

Personally, I'd wait til after the winter holidays before imposing this one on myself, just to give the first one a fair trial.

Good luck to you, whether you rekindle the fire to cook, or if something else fills its place to bring you joy.

[jumanggy]

I'm so sorry for your loss, Margaret... I hope soon you'll be feeling better, and not just about cooking.

[annecros]

Take it easy on yourself for now. You are doing all the right things, and nothing but time will work. I remember when Dad died, I couldn't stand to be alone for about a month, and it was because I just knew (and with the exception of my husband now, probably was right) that my father understood me better than anybody in the world. Thus, I felt alone when he was gone. All this is hindsight by the way, I thought I had lost my mind at the time.

Poor hubby drove me to work, then drove another 45 minutes in the other direction, because I just lost it when alone. He left work early, drove another 45 minutes in my direction, and we went home together. Didn't use mascara for two months.

There will come a day, when you will cook something that reminds you of your mother. It will be a great comfort for you at that time and place. You will smile.

Now, I like sitting in the back yard, all alone, and remembering my father's voice and some of the things he said. Hubby asks me what I am giggling at, and I tell him that I was just thinking to myself.

Crazy woman laughing at nothing in the back yard, imagine. My husband is a good man.