A.A. Gill on the pleasures of cooking
"Before I wrote about restaurants, I wrote about cooking. And before I wrote about cooking, I taught cooking. And before that, I taught myself how to cook. And before that, I bought sloppy brown take aways and put them on the floor and shared them with the dog. I cooked because I was unhappy and unloveable, and I discovered, over the years, that if you look at the lives of most people who have spent more time, trouble and money than is strictly necessary on their dinner, you'll generally find that food and cooking is a balm, a physical therapy for some unhappiness, some loss, or cruelty or loneliness.
If you read cookery books, it isn't hard to discern the depression and langour of chefs and restauranteurs and recipe compilers who found they tend to all eat with a black dog. There is something fundamental about the practice of preparing food: it is always a kindness, a communion, a wish that you will be well, that you will be healthy, that you will be replete and feel warm and safe.
There is a temporary earthly redemption when you take something that was cold and desiccated, dead and defunct, and make it live again as something else, something that heals. And learning to cook is hospitable and collective, it comes with conversation and togetherness, it is the bond of family and friendship, the connection to community and culture."