 Good Sunday evening, and happy almost-Valentine's. I felt like it was the perfect moment to write to you about something I've been discovering about myself and my cooking rhythms, which is the fresh importance of Monday cooking. Maybe Monday is a big cooking day for you; but for me, it has never been. Mondays are, well, Mondays and I have long held the practical viewpoint that one is better off cooking ahead on Sunday for Monday, Tuesday, and as far into the week as one can manage. The time and emotional energy to cook on Mondays just has always been in short supply.
But recently I haven't had the wherewithal to cook on the weekends, and I've been making fast and urgent meals on Monday evening, squeezed between my last phone call and my kids' early bedtime. And you know what? It's been surprisingly good for my mental health.
The message of Monday morning tells you to get on board, buckle in, relinquish your weekend relaxation, and remember that you work for a living. Our fundamentally capitalist society would like us to think that we don't own our time; we borrow it back for vacations and human business like having babies.
By the end of Monday my shoulders are tense, and my brain is buzzing with all the business of my work. And cooking is genuine labor too; the work of meal planning and cooking is relentless and often taken for granted. I'm not a romantic about cooking; there are times it's fun, and other times I just can't bear one more session of meal prep.
But it is a different kind of labor — one that feeds us physically, and one that directs energy inward to our home, our family, our appetites. My Monday night cooking has been the simplest kind of thing: roasted gnocchi, one-pot pasta, or weekend leftovers stir-fried with an egg on top. But the very act of chopping, sizzling, and setting bowls in place has been a firm halt to my Monday brain, my capitulation to the endless busyness of work.
I'm finding that when I prioritize actual cooking on Monday night, the most prosaic 10-minute meal still has the power to re-center me in feeding myself. Our time is our own, and our jobs only rent it. The physicality of cooking has the power to give me back my own state of being in my own home, with people I love. It's a firm and necessary act of self-care, and Monday night has been all the better for it.
So while I bet many of you already did your Valentine's swanky dinner, think about cooking again on Monday night — return home from your Monday self, and give over to the romance of a Monday night alone with your book, your partner, or your kiddos.  FOLLOW FAITH
MONDAY NIGHT DATE NIGHT Follow Us
Unsubscribe or Manage Your Preferences
View this email in your browser
To ensure delivery to your inbox please add newsletters@mail.apartmenttherapy.com to your address book.
Kitchn is a source of inspiration for a happier, healthier life in your kitchen. If we've inspired you, we may receive a share of purchases made through this email. |
Sunday, February 13, 2022
The romance of Monday-night cooking
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment