Me and Cooking

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?