What really strikes me about Masterchef is how passionate all these people are about cooking. It’s like a calling for them. Some have quit successful careers in hopes of pursuing a career in cooking. Some would do so if they won the prize money. Some are not looking to go professional, but they cook extravagant meals for their children, their spouse, their extended family.
I’m not that passionate about anything in my life. Tonight I cooked porkghetti, one of my more elaborate meals: Thaw pork chops ahead of time. Cut into thirds. Coat with egg wash and breadcrumbs (storebought, pre-seasoned), cook in air fryer (not even seared on the pan). Cook the pasta (from a box), add sauce (from a jar) and shredded cheddar cheese (from a bag). Leftover egg wash becomes a mug omelet (cooked in the microwave).
(But roommate said it was good!)
Of course, one doesn’t have to be passionate about cooking. It can be any number of things. Some are passionate about their career. Maybe they’re ambitious and rising through the ranks, or maybe they’re simply devoted to doing the best they can. Some dedicate themselves to volunteer work, activism, ministry. Some are really into their hobbies: spending 40 hours to perfect a digital art piece, training to run a marathon, writing a novel, racing for world first savage clears.
I don’t do any of that. I doodle. I journal. I have a dead-end job that lets me work from home most days and has an excellent work-life balance. I take evening walks and then come home to warm up corn dogs and tater tots for dinner while browsing dragon pngs. In all things I am utterly casual.
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