Cooking Lessons: Part 1 of 3

Contestant:	"I'll take 'Multisensory Activities' for $500, Alex."
Alex:	"'This undertaking generates a lot of heat and often ends in tears.'"
Contestant:	"What is...spanking?"
Alex:	"Um...no, I'm sorry, we were looking for 'baking', 'What is baking?' You, sir, are a pervert. Next up..."

I am relatively new to the practice of spanking. Not the idea, mind you, nor the desire, nor the fantasy, nor the consumption of literature on the subject, nor of its performance art. But the practice, yes. I have little experience on which to draw. As a good interdisciplinarian, my approach is therefore to rely on expertise gained from other fields that might help me to be a better spanker.

As I surveyed my other hobbies for applicable knowledge, I was at first skeptical that cooking could provide such insights. I readily see the link between cooking and pursuits like building train sets, tuning engines, or computer programming. Hackery sure, but smackery? Spanking is inextricably collaborative. Cooking is not, or at least no more so than painting. I get very little out of self-spanking--it is integrally incomplete--but I'm perfectly fulfilled being the only one in the kitchen. To me at least, cooking is solitary and spanking social. Would this not preclude a connection between these activities? Alas, my analyses are never so concise.

"Um, what happens if I've
overcooked the pasta?"

One night, I found myself thinking more deeply about the associated marvels of the culinary and disciplinary arts. Maybe it was the meditative tedium of stirring risotto, the yantra of the arborio in its broth. Or maybe it was the timber touch of the spoon guiding the kernels along their course. Would my experience over a stove help me in heating someone over my knee? Would I be as attuned to the constitution of a cussed as I am to the condition of a custard? Incidentally, I also wondered how many of my favorite food celebrities are also into spanking--so Giada, if you're out there, love, please send me a message.

Perhaps because of the dish I was preparing at the time, the patience that cooking teaches was the first thought that came to mind. Within my first couple of spanking experiences, I realized that reddening butt was quite different than browning meat. Such crimsoning is more akin to making a roux, requiring care and attention to the progression and distribution of color. I'll admit that, on more than one occasion, impatience has led me to burn my flower, making her reluctant to revisit my kitchen.

Cooking has also taught me patience in another sense: that is, patience in learning a craft. I've taken this lesson to spanking as well. It is as easy to dabble in spanking as in cooking. With each, however, there is a lot to learn. And there is definitely such thing as skill. I can't just put on a toque blanche and call myself a master chef. Nor would I be able to satisfy every itchy sub just because I had chosen "Spanker" in my SpankoLife profile. The first time I tried to peel a tomato, I ended up with a pulpy, red mess. Were I to all of a sudden take up a cane, I fear that the first time around I'd end up with the same.

In the next part of this essay, I will consider the common importance of tools as well as some key ways in which the two communities can learn from each other.

Photo "Львица домашняя" ("Lioness Home") by Alexxei, via Visual Clips.  Photo of lady opening pot courtesy of Curvature, original source unkown.  Photo of pears enhanced by Dioneo Daspanca, original source unknown.