I make no secret of the fact that I’m terrible with food. Be it down to my inability to taste (I don’t have a sense of smell so I can’t really taste much of anything), or my apathy towards everything other than playing Madden and translating Old English, I’ve just never got into food. I’ve never really liked the eating of it, the making of it, or the discussion of it. Some of my friends, meanwhile, are both very good cooks and very interested in food, so my pathetic attempts to nourish myself often resemble a small puppy trying to excavate an archaeological site alongside a small armada of mechanical digging contraptions; I deserve a few pitiful pats on the head, but little more.
However, today was somewhat of a watershed moment. I’ve enjoyed a vegan garlic pasta recipe for a while now – this one, to be exact – but I’ve often found it somewhat stodgy, particularly when I’m into my fourth portion because I’ll literally cook enough to give me leftovers for a week, then eat it all in one go.
So today, I took the unheard of step of deviating from the recipe. And not just a deviation born out of lacking – I’ll usually skip over the bits in fancy vegan recipes when they ask for blended almond-and-avocado paste – but a deviation born out of desire. I wanted it to taste less stodgy, and more zingy. So I did a thing.
I added salt to the sauce,
Now, I understand that this isn’t a particularly revolutionary step, as salt itself is a fairly basic component of a kitchen. It wasn’t even hard to do, nor did it take a lot of planning beforehand and a venn diagram to illustrate the advantages and disadvantages associated with such a culinary misadventure. I thought it could do with more salt, so I added more salt.
What’s even more stunning, however, is that I actually tasted the change. It was slightly zingy, and sharp, and helped break up the goopy texture of the rest of the dish.
The world has moved on.
I have levelled up.