Thumbnail: Marinating pork and lamb chops
Thumbnail: Pork and lamb chops, Vietnamese style
Thumbnail: Godiva hot chocolate
Thumbnail: A pasta dish
Thumbnail: Spice rack
Thumbnail: Steeping tea
Thumbnail: Woven trivet
Thumbnail: Woven trivet

A sense of hedo­nism has the bet­ter of me lately.

I remem­ber feel­ing this way once. It was about five years ago, soon after I lost my grand­mother and job in the same week. I’ve come to under­stand that such is a pass­ing phase, and that I should sim­ply enjoy such guilt-free things while it lasts.

As a result, I’ve been self­ishly monop­o­liz­ing Pat these last few weekends.

An exor­bi­tant amount of plea­sure comes from the mot­ley assort­ment of foods he prepares.

A friend who cooks as a hobby is up there with the other friends with sim­i­lar sorts of prac­ti­cal, eso­teric knowl­edge: the lawyer friend, the car mechanic friend, the com­puter geek friend (so I’m told).

Over the course of a few sum­mers he per­fected his grilling tech­nique, and has now moved onto a mas­tery of cold sal­ads. We have an agree­ment when it comes to prac­tic­ing his cook­ing skills, where he gets a record of his con­sum­able accom­plish­ments, and in return I get a mem­o­rable meal and some great pho­tos. He often men­tions that he’ll have to join forces with Karen, an accom­plished baker, to pro­vide the desserts. Baking abil­ity is some­thing that’s admit­tedly eluded him, as he focuses on entrées.

The other, less tan­gi­ble yet truly sub­lime form of plea­sure comes from our con­ver­sa­tions. Pat’s a per­son who lis­tens and con­tributes to a topic in equal mea­sure. Someone who doesn’t just wait for his turn to speak. As a result, I’m com­fort­able open­ing up to him, some­thing that I shy away from with most other people.

Lately though, it’s clar­ity that I’ve been look­ing for. Too often, I over-analyze my life, and it’s no secret that my emo­tions affect me more than I’d like.

When I need to sort out my life, Pat’s the per­son I turn to. I don’t seek guid­ance or coun­cil from him, only perspective.

In the end, noth­ing clar­i­fies and refreshes like a cou­ple mugs of tea and some good conversation.

I’ve been hog­ging Pat these last few week­ends, steal­ing him from the rest of his friends and fam­ily, but I don’t care.

Hedonism is the new rule, and I’m giv­ing in with caprice.