"There's much more to being a chef than just assembling ingredients. It's like the difference between a pianist and a composer. The pianist is creative, certainly, but he is only the mouthpiece of the person who dreamed the tunes into life.

To be a cook, it's enough to be a pianist, - a performer of other people's dreams. But to be a chef, you have to be a composer as well. For example, the recipes you are going to eat tonight are all traditional dishes from old Rome- but if all we do is simply recreate the past, without trying to add to it, it stops becoming a living tradition and becomes history, - something dead.

So we owe it to the chefs of the past, to continue to do as they did, - to experiment."

- The Food Of Love by Anthony Capella

It's delicately ornate paragraphs like this one, along with all the italian swearing (english translation included), and the extravagent sounding recipes that made me fall almost in love with this book.

I've sinfully indulged the entire day to reading it, amongst other things.

It's one of those books, you think, I'm going to have to read this the second time to fully appreciate all this... But I know I won't ever. So I try to pace myself, stretching the pleasure as long as I possibly can. But the more tantalizing and pleasurable it is, the more it makes me want more at the same time. So I slurppppppped it all up, and succumbed with abandon.

=)

Like an amazing, tiny bowl of expensive soup.

It's the same with relationships, if you think about it. It's the novelty of discovering small little new things about each other that makes it deliciously exciting. You want to discover each miniscule detail, each tiny secret, examine it slowly, turn in around, inside out, then lock it up inside your heart. Yet at the same time you want to take him all in at the same time, filling yourself up with him.

I can imagine Jerome's little snicker if he reads this.