Skip to content
Life moves at breakneck speed, and somehow, cooking gets tossed into the “shit we have to do” pile instead of the “things we actually enjoy” pile. We’re chopping like we’re in a race, burning the onions while texting back a “sure, sounds good,” and inhaling dinner as if it’s our last meal. It’s madness, I tell you. How about we slow down? What if cooking wasn’t just a means to an end but something sacred that brings us back to our senses? After all, that’s what I’m always trying to drill into your brain . . . cooking with presence and joy. Less stress, more flavor. Whether you’re making a minimalist weeknight dinner or a four-course feast for your best people, this is your invitation to slow down and enjoy the process. And yes, it IS an art. You have an artist within you. Let’s nurture it and teach you the art of slowing down.
Why We Should Slow Down When Cooking
1. Cooking Mindfully Stops the Chaos
Listen, we’re all running around like lunatics, and our nervous systems are paying for it. I know what your last few weeks have been like because I’ve had the same storm sweep through my own life. I don’t know what kind of cosmic bullshit is floating around lately, but ever since the equinox hit, it’s like the veil got yanked back and the spirits forgot how to mind their business! Cabinet doors in my kitchen have been slamming on their own, my dreams are increasingly weird, and the vibes are way off. There’s been some seriously strange energy walking around, licking its finger and stirring up my peace.
Fear’s been trying to move in rent-free, but you know what shuts that shit down real quick? Cooking mindfully and intentionally, like I mean it. I chop an onion and suddenly remember who the hell I am. Sauté some garlic, and the chaos starts to diminish. Spring is here, baby. It’s time to wake up, shake off the weird, and grow roots. No more spiritual squatters. Just me, my cast iron, and the fire I build every time I step into the kitchen.
2. Food Tastes Better When You Give a Damn
Ever notice how food just hits differently when it’s made by someone who actually gives a damn? Like, you can taste the love, the patience, the “I seasoned this with my soul and a little wrist flick of ancestral wisdom.” That ain’t magic—that’s presence. When you rush through a dish like it’s just another chore on your to-do list, guess what you get? Bland-ass chicken, underloved veggies, and a pot of “meh.” But when you slow your roll, taste as you go, and actually care? That’s when flavors bloom, textures pop, and your food starts telling stories. Cooking isn’t just about feeding your face, it’s how you show up. So, do it like you mean it or just order takeout and save everyone the disappointment.
3. Cooking Is a Love Language
Cooking is a damn love language, and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. Whether you’re feeding a house full of people or just making a plate for your beautiful, tired, been-through-some-stuff self, it’s a whole act of love. Taking the time to make something good . . . something real . . . is your way of saying, “Hey, I give a shit about you.” Even if the “you” is just you, standing barefoot in your kitchen at 7 p.m., hair a mess, talking to your soup as if it’s a therapy session.
That kind of care, that level of intention nourishes more than just your belly. It reminds you (and anyone lucky enough to be at your table) that they’re worth the effort. That they matter. And baby, that kind of love tastes better than anything boxed or frozen ever could.
4. Ingredients Deserve Some Respect
Look . . . your ingredients didn’t just fall out of the sky and land in your kitchen. They’ve been on a journey. That tomato you carefully chose was sun-ripened and plucked by hand. That rice? It was harvested, dried, packaged, and schlepped across miles to sit pretty in your pantry. Your food has stories, shug, so show it some damn respect.
Smell the herbs before you tear ’em up like a savage. Run your fingers through the rice . . . feel it, connect with it, whisper sweet nothings if you must. And if naming your chicken before you roast it helps you pause and pay attention, then go on and baptize that bird. It’s not about being weird (okay, maybe a little weird), it’s about presence and gratitude. It’s important to honor what you’re about to turn into nourishment because the energy you bring into the kitchen shows up on the plate . . . every time.
How to Slow Down in the Kitchen
May I be short and blunt? K, thanks.
1. Set the Mood
Put on some music (maybe a little jazz, maybe some old-school punk . . . whatever does it for you). Pour a drink. Light a candle. If your kitchen feels like a battlefield, it’s time to change the vibe.
2. Get Your Hands in It
Don’t just dump stuff in a pot. Touch it. Smell it. Tear the herbs, massage the kale, and get all up in your ingredients. That’s how you connect.
3. Stop Freakin’ Multitasking
You’re not answering emails while flipping shrimp. You’re here, now. One burner, one intention. Respect the moment.
4. Cook Like You Mean It
Half-assed energy = half-assed flavor. And I know this because I’ve half-assed it myself. Bring your entire self into the moment. Stir with purpose. Season like you love somebody.
Quick & Satisfying Weeknight Meals
Slowing down doesn’t mean you need to spend three hours making dinner. Most nights, we just don’t have the time or energy for that! Presence doesn’t require production. It just needs attention. You can still move with intention, even when dinner’s gotta be done in half an hour or less.
And listen . . . if you’re here reading this, chances are you already know your way around a damn kitchen. So, no, I’m not dropping a full recipe with measurements and step-by-step for each of these. You’ve got instincts. Trust ’em. This is just a spark to get you moving with love, not a permission slip to scroll Pinterest for two hours. Here are a few fast meals ideas for ya.
1. Garlic Butter Shrimp with Lemon Orzo
Fast, fancy, and loaded with flavor. Shrimp, garlic, lemon, and butter are doing their thing in this yummy dish. Serve with a glass of wine, and pretend you’re on vacay!
2. Sheet pan salmon + asparagus + lemony couscous
It cooks in under twenty. The whole kitchen smells like you tried (even if you didn’t) and it tastes like a win.
3. Big-ass salad with intention
We’re not talking limp lettuce and sadness. Toss in roasted chickpeas, chopped herbs, leftover chicken, a handful of nuts, and make a real dressing . . . not store-bought. Whip up something creamy, tangy, and made with love.
4. Soup and sandwich, upgraded
Tomato soup with a swirl of cream and grilled cheese with sharp cheddar and caramelized onions? Pssshhhhh . . . that’s not laziness, that’s luxury in disguise.
A Beautiful Four-Course Meal for Entertaining
For those nights when you actually want to bask in the process and you’re not just feeding mouths, but feeding souls, here’s a four-course lineup that’s as impressive as it is damn delicious.
1st Course: Whipped Ricotta with Honey & Toasted Nuts
Fluffy, creamy, slightly sweet, and served with warm, crusty bread. It’s the kind of appetizer that makes people close their eyes and whisper, “Oh my god,” after the first bite.
2nd Course: Herb-Roasted Chicken with Citrus & Garlic
Low and slow, baby. This bird gets bathed in garlic, citrus, and fresh herbs until it’s golden, juicy, and smelling like you know exactly what you’re doing. Serve it up with buttered asparagus and crispy fingerlings. Then just go ahead and take a bow because you are a baddie!
3rd Course: Fig & Walnut Crostini with Blue Cheese
A little salty, sweet, and crunchy . . . it’s the cheese course your dinner guests didn’t even know they needed. Tiny, bold, and unforgettable. Just like you, boo.
4th Course: Dark Chocolate Pot de Crème
Now, for this one, you absolutely have permission to google the recipe. Decadent. Silky. Make-ahead magic. Serve with espresso or an after-dinner liqueur because you’re fancy like that and you know how to close a meal with that “George Jefferson strut.”
Cooking isn’t just about feeding yourself. It’s about creating something beautiful and slowing down. Whether you’re throwing together a twenty-minute dinner in your comfiest sweatpants or crafting a four-course spread in your flowiest hostess robe, give yourself permission to be present.
Now tell me—what are you cooking first? Drop it in the comments, and let’s talk food, love, and all the messy magic in between.
