I think half the fun of life is in embarking on adventures you’ve never done before, just to see what they would be like. Sometimes those are the scariest moments (like say, moving halfway across the world to a country where you knew nothing of the local language? ha), but sometimes they are also the moments best suited for growth and development. Not just in technique/skills, but also a personal evolution. I like to imagine a plate as a canvas, just waiting for flavors to come together and blend into new colors to paint the palate on the tongue. Comfort is tasty, and the ritualism that comes with the cherished and familiar always works. But that’s the thing. It’s safe, precisely because of its familiarity. The adrenaline from the rush of doing the unexpected isn’t present in comfort food – it is the very definition of the expected, and there is immense value in that. However, if I only ever did what was safe and comfortable, where would I be as a cook? As a person? Someone who only looks to past successes becomes very boring very quickly.