Why are cherries so sexy?
Is it the taught fragile skin stretched around the supple deep red flesh.
Is it the sweet juice you taste when you bite and snap the tender skin.
Is it popping the entire cherry into your mouth and swirling it around on your tongue to spit out its pit.
Maybe all of those things, how sensual food can be.
Licking ice cream from a cone, the moan released from a taste so exquisite you can’t help but express your ecstasy.
But also, it is comfy, not sexy.
The sound of water rumbling and bubbling, the hymn changes when salt is tossed in. The steam hits my face when I dump the pasta and its a warming spa.
Burned my finger rushing something out of the oil, little scar, you remind me of my practice, my skill, my craft.
Cutting into a lemon, the oils of the skin mist into the air and remind me of summers, every summer.
The oven warms the house as a chicken is tucked away roasting with fragrance so beautiful that it is, perfume.
I cannot imagine anything more special, than a meal
There are dirty dishes in the sink, but, I know your belly is full.
Maybe cooking is not so sexual or sensual or romantic or exciting for most, for me, it is ritual.
It is all emotions, grief when I use my last bit of that special spice mix we got on vacation. Excitement to try it when it was new.
Oh dearest cooking; chopping , slicing, dicing, stirring, mixing, measuring, tasting, trying.
My darling act of cooking, I love you.
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