Can we practice mindfulness through cooking?  I think so.  I’ve loved to cook, dating back to my days at the Pine Plaza Restaurant, where I worked as a dishwasher in the late 80s.  When I got moved up to short-order cook, I marveled at how fast a shift would go by.  What was even more fun was when it wasn’t busy – because I’d get to sip coffee and listen to the old timers tell their stories.  I got many local and world history lessons without having to open a book.  And occasionally, I’d get to be the one to come in early and make the soup.  I was reminded of this yesterday morning when I was prepping the chowder I brought to my pal Jeff’s house for the Christmas Eve party.

I learned how to make clam chowder when I was in high school.  I took a two-year culinary arts class with my man, Jamie Pagano.  We got to eat almost every day, and we had a lot of fun.  We could have taken a class where we learned to build a house with Mr. Garabedian but took cooking instead.  Now that I am trying to fix up a house – it might have been a better choice to do the house class.  During those years, my classmates built a house behind the school and sold it to buy materials for the next school year…to build another house. 

But this post is not about that.  This post is about chowder.  I am jealous of Emeril, Bobby Flay, and Gordon Ramsay.  Also, Giada De Laurentiis – my chef crush, wouldn’t be impressed with my refusal to follow a recipe.  But face the facts.  None of the above got famous by following recipes.  They got famous by making them – and this is where cooking gets fun…and mindful.  So, I follow basic recipe principles –making the roux, a cream sauce, and such.  But the fun starts at the grocery store when I ask myself, how will I make this?  Then, I roam around picking out ingredients and see if I can make it happen.  I’m such a risk taker – and be it known that I’ve had my fair share of flops, too, like the time I made a pesto with rosemary instead of basil.  I thought it would work out – but it was about the grossest thing I’ve ever put together.  Simply inedible. 

For the X-mas chowder, I went to Market Basket and filled the cart with the stuff I wanted to toss in.  I had to get or had most of the basics at home – half and half, butter, flour, onions, potatoes, garlic, salt, white pepper, bay leaf, fresh thyme, and paprika.  Then I got three bags of clams, some leeks, green onions, and two things of pork belly.  I cut everything up really big so that it was more of a CHOW-DER than a chowder.  I think an excellent chowder can be eaten with a fork. 

The cooking experience can be done in solitude and can be quite relaxing.  It can be done as a date – sipping vino and listening to music.  It can also be done with the kiddos – which I have been pulling my son into whenever I can.  Today, he oiled up and seasoned brisket with my homemade rub – a combination of white pepper, garlic salt, paprika, rosemary, thyme, cayenne pepper, red pepper flakes, and oregano.  We used the brisket in a chili – that I accidentally over-peppered.  He’s also learned to make the chili with a rack of ribs instead of ground beef and how great it is to have pork tenderloin carved up and served underneath kiwi slices. 

Cooking, for me, has always been more than just a means to an end. It's a time when I can use some creativity, a space for experimentation, and a way to connect with others. Each recipe is a story, a memory, and a piece of art, hopefully crafted well and served with love. It's this passion for cooking, this dedication to the craft, that I love sharing with Luca, my good friend Jeffrey, or anyone. Cooking together can be an engaging experience with or without mishaps. It's not just about the food but the shared moments and the joy of creating something awesome and amazing together.

Who would have thought that the kitchen offered such endless possibilities? Whether experimenting with new recipes, tweaking old ones, or just enjoying the process, there's always something new to learn and experience. And I believe that's what I am trying so hard to teach my son –  that continuously learning, growing, and sharing those experiences with someone is way better than the X-box or TikTok.   And aside from spending quality time together – when it is all said and done, we get to eat.