It's a really good feeling when you're making dinner and you are kind of randomly slapping shit together. But it ends up being particularly good for whatever reason. And you have to sit down and think about how you did that because you would like to recreate those flavors later.

The funny part is, is you'll never actually 1:1 recreate it because your interpretation of the flavor is probably partially based on your mood at the time, even if you remember the exact recipe.

I don't know, just random musings after dinner, after a long day of work Cooking really is magical sometimes.