There are few parallels between writing and cooking. Both involve creativity and dedication, but the similarities pretty much end there. Except, of course, for the use of your hands.
A saute pan that has been in a 500° oven for five minutes should probably not be grabbed bare-handed, for example; it makes both cooking and writing difficult.
But there was no choice but to soldier on through the day, a day in which I sat on saute again -- and once again survived. More important, I've started learning "the dance," the repetitive moves that really define a cook.
I also had an inspiration in the dregs of the night, after we'd mopped up and were getting ready to go: Someone knocked a bottle of Cholula (a mainstay in any kitchen with Mexicans) to the floor, and after the glass was picked up, the Cholula left a very interesting design on our otherwise clean floor.
Maybe it'll find its way onto a plate today.