The simplicity of perfection

OR THE PERFECTION OF SIMPLICITY?

I have just finished reading for the second time a rather lovely book (shown above). It is not about food, but the preparation of food is significant in a couple of places, so a brief word about it.

It's in lots a ways a very difficult book because it's about advanced maths and baseball. Well that's what it seems to be about, although, of course it isn't really. The story is that of a Professor of mathematics, his housekeeper and her son. The Professor's short-term memory only lasts 80 minutes but somehow he and the housekeeper and her son build up a relationship. There is a lot of very complex mathematics, and a lot of detailed stuff about baseball - neither of which I understand. But I don't think you need to in order to appreciate the book. I think beauty is behind it all and truth and the paradox of complexity and simplicity. The beauty of the natural world, the beauty of numbers, the beauty of relationships. And the complex thoughts that go into arriving at a simple solution like a mathematical formula - or 0 - which, though simple, has a whole multiverse of meaning that is ultimately perfect. I'm really finding it hard to explain - but read it.

And the relevance of this to a food blog? Well there are a couple of passages in which I think the author is saying that something as simple as cooking bread can be a perfect and beautiful thing. The Professor likes to watch his housekeeper cook - not in a kinky way - it's just satisfyingly and scientifically complex yet simple for him. Here are a couple of quotes:

"I sliced some peppers and onions for the salad and made an olive oil dressing. Then I fried the eggs ... He said nothing, but he seemed to hold his breath while I cut the lemon peel in the shape of a flower. He leaned in closer as I mixed the vinegar and oil, and I thought I heard him sigh when I set the piping hot omelet on the counter. ...I looked at the food I had just finished preparing and then at my hands. Sautéed pork garnished with lemon, a salad, and a soft, yellow omelet. I studied the dishes, one by one. They were all perfectly ordinary, but they looked delicious - satisfying food at the end of a long day. I looked at my palms again, filled suddenly with an absurd sense of satisfaction, as though I had just solved Fermat's Last Theorem."

There is also a scene in which she makes some bread with the same feeling of serene, simplicity and beauty.

I guess when I am happy with what I have cooked and during the preparation of food I sometimes get a bit of the same feeling. It's satisfying and it often solves a problem - what to do with what's in the fridge.