Why not? | Gearoid Holland
“Do you think you’re a flipping genius? Because I think you’re just a tosser.”
There are two perks to Pancake Tuesday (held on February 12th this year). One is that six year olds (one in particular) can utter the above remark to a complete stranger and justify it as merely inquiring about somebody’s culinary techniques vis-a-vis pancakes. The other good thing is the pancakes themselves, wrapped around tooth-sized nuggets (rather than trickles) of sugar.My earliest memories of cooking at home are not uncommon. They involve licking surplus icing / cupcake batter out of the mixing bowl, sometimes with a wooden spoon but mostly with a finger (back in the days before the Food Safety Authority of Ireland got fussy about things like horse meat in beef burgers). And invariably most of the flour ended up on my nose, my cheeks or in my hair, instead of on the countertop or the rolling pin, because I was so good at “helping”.As the saying goes: to make a [cupcake] you have to [generate a localised snowstorm]. We had a “white Christmas” at least three times a year.I like to experiment with combinations; whether it be words, ideas or tastes. Others attend restaurants to “enjoy the ambience” and ensconce themselves in some ephemeral delusion called a “dining experience” (which they’re too busy to notice anyway as they swill back pints of wine with the sophisticated elegance of a dehydrated marathon runner doing a splash-n-dash). I however savour the unexpected; whether it be unique combinations of familiar flavours or discovering a new seasoning deftly but subtly buried within a myriad of other aromatic layers.Cooking is only a chore if it feels repetitive. Even all-too-familiar recipes like lasagne or spaghetti Bolognese can be varied with one or two subtle changes; adding or substituting something that you’ve only ever associated with some other recipe. Cross-pollinating herbs, spices, sauces or seasonings in new and untested combinations to discover hidden gems... or recoil in horror at concoctions that can only be categorised as biohazard. But sure that’s half the fun.The craving for new experiences is symptomatic of something that I learned long ago: that an evening spent on the couch is a wasted opportunity. It could be uncovering a new hobby, trying out a different sport, joining a new club / society to experience something different, learning a new skill, or exposing yourself to a new genre of music / film that you never thought you could ever enjoy. Or maybe even striking up a new friendship that could lead to all of these things, and more. It’s why I’ve stood within ten feet of the deer in Phoenix Park in complete awe of the masterful beauty of one of nature’s noblest creatures, why whenever I see a piano I can’t help but tinkle away at the ivories, and why I understand only too well how a simple smile can be the catalyst for changing an entire lifetime (or two) forever.While I enjoy cooking (and many other creative processes, having recently experienced Candian bakin’), I’m using it here as a metaphor to signify the natural link between Pancake Tuesday and what it heralds. Shrove Tuesday is the precursor to Lent, when it’s traditional to give up a bad habit or form a good one. In other words, it’s an opportunity to truncate a New Year resolution into a six week test period. My recommendation is to resolve not to do the same thing as normal. Experiment. Try something different, something you’ve never tried before, something you’re slightly curious about but never had the opportunity or motivation to take any further.Oh, and leave the sarcastic comments to the six year olds.