A couple years ago, while making myself a peanut butter and banana sandwich, I encountered an earth-shaking, incredibly basic realization: I could cut the sandwich in half. Into triangles, specifically. The nutrition content wouldn't change; the taste wouldn't change; the texture wouldn't change. In every real way, the sandwich would be precisely the same as before. But it would be better.
You know that feeling, right? Homemade sandwiches taste better when they've been cut in half. Part of that is form factor -- a halved sandwich is much easier to eat -- but, more importantly, it signifies care. A sandwich that hasn't been cut in half is still a sandwich; the prompt has been fulfilled to completion. That the sandwich has been cut means that the person preparing it has gone above and beyond what's necessary, exclusively to make it easier for the person eating it.
Love is the act of going above and beyond what's expected simply because you care.
I tend to make more elaborate meals when cooking for other people, especially romantic partners. I metamorphose from someone who is perfectly content eating rice and beans five times in a row into someone who eschews the basics entirely, leaping into a complex dish and experimenting with spices! I bounce from step to step, improvising and almost always coming up with something new, exciting, and delicious! I've been told I'm a very inventive cook when inspiration strikes, and, one way or another, inspiration is a form of love.
I'm really good at cooking for other people.
So I stood there for a while in the kitchen, knife in hand, looking at the sandwich. It was only for me; nothing hinged on it but my own experience. It wasn't like I could rise or fall in my own estimation based on the shape of a slice of bread. Though, looking at it more closely, I realized how vital it was.
Love of the other, love of the craft, love of the self. All are vital, in one form or another. All can inspire good cooking, to go above and beyond. Cutting a sandwich in half means saying to someone "I love you, and have spent five extra seconds making this meal better than it needs to be." Oftentimes it's easier to say to others than it is to say to yourself.
Nowadays, I'm a pretty good cook, even when it's just for myself. I'll happily whip up a full meal for myself, for no other reason than that it makes me happy. Love of the craft, love of the self. Both are important, and both must be nurtured in the same way as love of the other.
When people say that their secret ingredient is love, it's not that there's some hidden piece of the recipe, or some secret essential quality of adoration poured into the mix. It simply means that they care enough to put in that tiny extra effort.
It was a damn good sandwich, by the way.
