(This plate hung in my grandma’s kitchen for years.)

Have you seen the show Diners, Drive-ins and Dives?

Guy Fieri, the host, is fun and drives a pretty cool car. I like the places he goes and the people he meets. What I like most are the unusual food concoctions!

Each person Guy accompanies is very proud of their establishment and their recipes. They make the food then Guy takes a bite and tells them how great it is. (I’m still waiting for the show where Guy doesn’t like it!)

The customers enthusiastically tell Guy how amazing the food is. “There is nothing like it,” they say. They HAVE to get there once a week or they travel miles to have THIS sandwich. I’m jealous that there isn’t a fantastic place like that near my house!

The thing that sticks in my head is the TIME it takes to prepare some of these recipes! They start with raw meat then add the spices and liquid. Then I hear, “We put this in the smoker for three and a half hours” or “This will sit for 24 hours”. Food prep takes that long?

“If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right”… right? These people aren’t in the business to schlep food and make a quick buck. They would be outta business pretty quickly. They truly love what they do. They put energy and time into their passion so they can make people happy, which makes them happy.

I can cook, but I don’t love it. Why? I’m not that patient. Or is it that I’m not patient so I don’t love to cook? My food is definitely not as good as food prepared by folks who invest the time to learn, prepare and serve the recipes they love. (In my defense I want to get supper on the table quickly so we’re not eating at 7:00!  Doesn’t turning the heat to HIGH under the chicken get it done faster?)

I’ve spent the last 15 years trying not to think about how fast I can get things done. Why do I think faster is better? By getting things done fast you get more done. But I’m realizing that TIME is a major key to life happiness. Things that matter and have value are never rushed.

I can try to change but I’m not sure I can. I’ve done things the same for so long that when my husband sees smoke billowing out of the house while pulling into the driveway he’s not alarmed. After 20+ years he knows I’m just cooking. He knows to smile and tell me he loves it. Hey, it’s not burned, it’s “blackened”.