for the love of food

Food.

God, I love the stuff. I love the flavour and the senses and the burst and the passion and the taste. I love food; melting and burning and pots and pans and smells. Oh, the smells that come out of the kitchen at the end of the day could melt my stoniest days and turn my heart to butter.

Especially the smell of curry coming from the kitchen – it’s Thai curry – and the fresh smell is intoxicating. My mouth waters as the prominent flavours turn from spicy, curry paste to freshly squeezed lime juice being added to the pot in a sizzle and rice being tested and the warmth that fills a kitchen and the fish and prawns and oh my! You could win me over with food like this: you could make me yours in a tick with a plate of good food and paralyze me with pure happiness.

Coriander – that’s my favourite. The moment the coriander hits the pot or my taste buds all heaven breaks loose. It’s beautiful and I could gush about it for hours and hours. It is even great growing in a pot or a window sill when the morning carries it in. Give me food – give me thai curry with coriander and I’ll be putty in your hands.

With food like this you could make me your slave.