Some days I feel like letting everything go.
Like meals don’t really matter.
Like I don’t even want to try anymore.
Honestly, some days I don’t want to try at all.
So tonight, I cooked.
Nothing special.
Fried rice, gyoza, and miso soup.
One of the simple meals my mom used to make.
Cooking.
Setting the table.
Sitting down properly.
Actually eating.
Tonight’s fried rice was just rice, egg, a little soy sauce, and salted kombu.
The gyoza were store-bought.
The miso soup was dashi, miso, and tofu.
Nothing fancy.
But doing this — cooking and eating like this — feels like a small promise to myself.
I’m still learning how to put my life back together.
One meal at a time.
Little by little.
I’ll try again tomorrow.
What’s your comfort meal when you’re trying to hold yourself together?
by Tokyo_Elena_
4 Comments
I was never the type to cook at all.
For a long time, I didn’t even think it mattered.
Little by little, I started cooking.
I realized it’s not about being good at it —
it’s about showing up for myself, and sometimes cooking with someone else in mind.
I’m still learning.
Still rebuilding.
Simple life just nice
My comfort meal is probably burritos everything thet egg or beans. In the Japanese vein I’d say soba
My comfort food would be Katsudon, the combinations of the smell of the meal after I cook it just brings me back from however far off my mind is.