So here's a confession: I enjoy cooking.
I get a similar sort of satisfaction from it as I do working on a story or harp arrangement. (I have a cooking blog over at Evil Overlady Cooks.) On the face of it, though, this doesn't make much sense. Sure, it's creation in the broadest sense - I'm making something out of raw materials - but it's not all that different from putting together an Ikea desk, and I'm sure most people wouldn't consider that a creative outlet. At present, my substitutions, omissions and additions to recipes are fairly minimal. I'm still a fairly by-the-book cook.
So I'm not sure what it is, precisely, that satisfies that creative urge. Maybe it's the combination of recipes - I tend to throw together some fairly oddball menus. Maybe it's the fact that (let's be honest) my ambition outstrips my skill, so I often find myself improvising to get back on track.
Or maybe it's less to do with the creative instinct as the emotions at the core of it. I have a very Italian mother: food is love. And it's that sense of acceptance and contentment that I get every time I cook ... even when something ends up all over the floor.
Anyone else feel creative in the kitchen?