Thanks to vegetarian duck, I was entranced to read about the application of Brian Eno’s Oblique Strategies in cooking. I always knew I liked Eno, and I’d heard reference to the Oblique Strategies–a deck of cryptic cards for inspiration–but I didn’t know Eno had also discussed the Zen of cooking. It all makes sense now!

I’m a huge fan of constraint-driven creativity. Georges Perec fascinates, algorithmic psychogeography intrigues, The Five Obstructions delights me like nothing else.

But since I am, alas, not a filmmaker, my obstructions are to be found (or not found) in my fridge, and it’s what’s there (or not) that has made me devise my best dinners.

Or, I should say: not necessarily my best dinners, as in everyone at the table swooned, cheered and carried me around on their shoulders. But my best dinners, as in cooking put me in a relaxed, mindful state and the result was my vision, realized just as I had imagined, and all the choices I made in the process turned out to be the right ones. When I wash up the dishes after a couple hours of cooking and eating like this, I feel like I accomplished a small something.

When I wash up the dishes from a dinner where I followed a few recipes, and they kind of hit the spot, but everyone gushed about how good they were–enh. My head is too cluttered from looking back and forth at the typed-up stuff, and all the second-guessing of the recipe.

Double alas, however, I do not have an iPhone to download the (inevitable) Oblique Strategies iPhone app. So I will have to go analog. In preparation, I’ve just requested Eno’s book, A Year with Swollen Appendices, from the Queens Public Library.

Now how can I get Lars von Trier to come over and whip me into shape?