I don’t consider myself much of a hobbyist, though I did try boxing relatively late in life. It’s cheaper and less punishing than therapy. What’s more, being completely spent at the conclusion of a workout, I felt something that approximates relaxation.



My problems with boxing, however, were several. Not only did I lack youth and talent, my courage was intermittent.



I’m more courageous as a cook. Mostly I cook for my daughter, who is, if nothing else, not easily impressed by her father. Her diet at home consists primarily of French toast, steak, salmon and broccoli, which I can prepare in endless permutations. I recently attempted—bravely, I might add—a scallopini dish. Holiday Kriegel merely stared at her plate, but my girlfriend and her strapping sons seemed to appreciate the effort.



That’s the key. I make no claim to be a serious cook, or even a good one. But I make up in effort what I lack in ability. My menu is limited, but I love what I cook: crispy asparagus, lemon chicken, and every few months, a vat of meat sauce, elaborately evolved from my mother’s recipe. The meat sauce takes a day or so, but it makes me feel good. And it never hits me back.



Get more on Mark Kriegel at SimonandSchuster.com