Cooking As My Therapy

The blog post I wrote yesterday Letter To My Father was a form of therapy for me, a slice of unshared details of my personal life that affected me in so many ways. The kitchen is also where I seek solace. A therapeutical protocol encompassing hot and cooling spices, creamy sauces, doughs that come alive through the grace of yeast and love. Sometimes a simple grilled cheese sandwich has been my best friend specially when I’m exhausted or on the run. Sometimes my soul requires something hot like a bowl of udon floating in broth. On hor days there is always fruit and a bowl of antipasti sitting in the fridge waiting to be enjoyed. My mind wanders and I often daydream as I stir a pot of marinera or dig my fingers into silky dough. I never leave the kitchen when I’m canning. I wait while my jars process like a helicopter parent would watch their child.
I never am alone either as I have a chorus of angels at my feet every step of the way. After all, my pups and kids are all the family I have and for them it is why my cookkng has become a labour of love. May your home be filled with warmth, your pantry full and may you always have good health! Xo, Follow Me on Playboy🐰 Purchase my book here 🤍Follow me on TikTok🤍 CashApp $VITASTCLAIRE JOIN HIVE NFTs Buy Crypto ♡