Happy New Year, everyone!

I wanted to touch base on a subject that was once anathema to me, right up to about May of 2004, at which point my entire world view, especially in a large city like Toronto, changed forever.

I speak of the joy of cooking, not just for survival and sustenance, but because it’s so much fun. No longer was it to be seen as a “Food is Fuel” situation.

Sherman, let’s set the Way Back Machine about twenty-five years, shall we? I’d been living on my own during college days throughout the 90s, and largely depended on easy-to-make ramen soup packets, simple sandwiches and other basic salads, at least when I wasn’t pigging out on poutine, burgers or other fast food.

The finer tastes of the world were unknown to me, and didn’t really catch my eye and taste buds. Sushi was a foreign concept, as I couldn’t imagine why people would choose to eat raw fish. I could probably cook myself a minute steak, but the finer, equally affordable cuts were still a mystery to me.

Raw fish? “It’ll be a cold day in hell, ” said a naive Dom in the early 2000s… (photo courtesy Food Network)

Then, in the late months of 1999, I reconnected with the love of my life, and started my life anew in a different province, and found my place in the largest city in Canada.

Now, please understand that my diet changed drastically, given that Naomi, my girlfriend at the time (and now my wife of nearly seventeen years), is a great cook, and she introduced me to several new dishes, many of them stemming from her lifetime growing up in a Hungarian household.

Indeed, the concept of cooking for pleasure was as alien to me as complex astrophysics would be to the Amish, and so I relied on Naomi to guide me through better nutrition.

I’ve always been a visual learner, so imagine my surprise when one fine weekend, after we’d purchased our new home and had a few days of cable TV left in the unit from the previous owner, my wife called up to me and told me that a show called The Naked Chef was on Food Network Canada, where young British pup Jamie Oliver was dazzling his producer with a recipe called Chili Con Carne.

Half interested, I made my way down the stairs, telling my wife I had little interest in watching an English bloke burn his privates with oil, after attempting a recipe while in the nude.

“No, no, no,” said Naomi, “it’s not him literally naked, he means that his method of cooking is pared down to basic, easy to understand concepts, for new cooks who aren’t quite ready to start their journey at Michelin levels of haute cuisine.

There he was, in a comfy, yet lived in kitchen, his favorite tools at his disposal, supplies at the ready in a nearby basket or in the fridge, and mostly speaking to the lady producer behind the camera, to keep the narrative going.

At that moment, something in my head just clicked. Large tomes of wild recipes from the world over no longer seemed so complicated, and Jamie Oliver’s easygoing, earnest approach and camera presence just spoke to me.

Naomi tried in vain to change the channel, but I had to warn her off, as I was riveted by what I was seeing, hearing and learning.

I soon became a huge fan of Oliver’s, grabbing each new recipe book as they came out over the years, adding them to our kitchen bookshelf, along with other, well worn grimoires of all sorts.

In all fairness, I can’t say that I’ve used all of these books cover to cover, but their availability and affordability (not to mention the fact that they made for great birthday or Xmas presents for me), made me happy and eager to explore new ideas, and new types of cuisines I never considered before.

Typical mise en place when I cook for Naomi and myself. All ingredients at the ready, recipe learned and ready for a stovetop adventure…

Since that day, I have found myself so enthused by the idea of cooking, that all new available shows by other known chefs became new opportunities for growth in the kitchen. The likes of Gordon Ramsey (when he’s teaching techniques, none of that reality TV nonsense), Anthony Bourdain and local Toronto talent, became new teachers I was ready to learn from, like an eager Padawan at the Jedi Academy.

Whereas I used to be obsessed with pop culture when in social settings, my new favorite thing to do was to touch base with friends and acquaintances, hoping to learn what they did in their own space, just so I could expand my horizons.

I’ll freely admit that I’m more of a meat cook in our household, but I’ve slowly grown to include poultry, seafood and some vegan dishes, into my repertoire.

There was a moment in 2008, in a Disney Pixar film I enjoyed over some cheese and a fine bottle of wine, with both Naomi and our good friend Dominic Major, where the animators truly nailed the idea of cooking and flavour.

That clip has long been an reference of mine when discussing my love of good food; the film is Ratatouille, and Remy the rat, voiced by Patton Oswalt, explains how the combination of two flavors to create an explosive third, made the most sense to me.

For nearly twenty years now, I’ve likened my joy of cooking to the magic performed by young wizards at Hogwarts. Each recipe is a spell waiting to be mastered, and each of them holding the power to dazzle, mystify and bewitch willing participants. Each new cookbook I put my hands on is like a dusty spell book begging to be used.

In all modesty, I accept that I am still learning, but each new day, I reach out to fellow cooks, some just starting, others well trained veterans of the métier. It’s a joy I’m glad I discovered, one I bond with over with my wife, and I hope I keep learning to my dying day.

Bon appétit, my friends.