Aga varahommikul, peale piinarikast päeva, kergelt muserdatud, ent hella kohvitamist, viimaks enda hingamise tasakaalu saamist, peole lippamist, tundide kaupa hämaras ühikatoas tantsimist, laiska lumesõda ja kelgulendu märjana ja valutavana end koju naermist leidsin selle:
'For the perfect accomplishment of any art, you must get this feeling of the eternal present into your bones - for it is the secret of proper timing. No rush. No dawdle. Just the sense of flowing with the course of events in the same way that you dance to music, neither trying to outpace it nor lagging behind. Hurrying and delaying are alike ways of trying to resist the present, and in cooking they invariably show up in the form of spoiled food. To try to have time, that is, to move as quickly as possible into the future, gives you abstract food instead of real food. Instant coffee, for example, is a well-deserved punishment for being in a hurry to reach the future. So are TV dinners. So are the warmed-over nastinesses usually served on airplanes, which taste like the plastic trays and dishes on which they are served. So is that meat which is not roasted but heated through in thirty-second electronic ovens. So are mixtures of grape juice and alcohol, prepared in concrete vats, pretending to be wine.'
Alan W. Watts 'Murder in the kitchen'
And oh, how I despise the taste and even smell of instant coffee.
