Of Eating Out or Not

I love cooking. Well, that's obvious by the fact that I write a cooking blog. But as much pleasure as I take out of getting in the kitchen, sometimes I am very tempted by the ease of fast food. At the end of a long day of work, or in between rushed errands, I feel like even sautéing vegetables or boiling rice is beyond me. The giant, neon beacon of the Subway sign, the crimson clarion call of Papa Gino's, they promise food that is serviceable and reasonably cheap. In economical terms, I'm comparing the opportunity cost vs. the financial cost. By paying $6 for a meal at these places, I save myself the time and effort to fix something up at home.
But there's also the quality cost, what's lost by taking that easy route. Subway's veggie d-lite sandwich is basic and healthy enough (it's hard to mess up bread and vegetables). Papa Gino's is less healthy, but their pizza is definitely the tastiest of fast food pizza offerings (though I'm not sure that's saying much). Still, it's lacking a certain something I would get by cooking at home.
Whenever I resist the urge to pull into one of these restaurants, I never regret it. As much as I don't feel like digging through the cupboards to figure something out, then actually having to cook it, I'm never sad that I do. Regardless of my dish's simplicity, whether it is common place, or very subdued in flavor, it's always worth it. There is a pleasure I get out of seeing home cooked food that I have never found duplicated by eating out.
The flavors are mine, the visual of food sauteing in a pan, baking in an oven, or bubbling in a sauce pan fills me with an anticipation and delight I can only describe as being nearly childlike. As I've expressed before, the act of making in the kitchen is one that comes from the same place in my creative bone, the same part of me that loves to write or quilt. I love hearing the sound of oil sizzling on a hot skillet or the same of onions as they saute in butter. The way vegetables change their hue as the heat cooks them through. It's magical to me, in the simplest way. Layman's alchemy. The magic of everyday, common things.
Oh, and when it's done! When I spoon those baked vegetables, drizzled with olive oil and lemon-pepper seasoning onto my plate, with a side of warmed crusty bread, I'm happy to eat it. I feel more nourished than Subway can ever make me. Those vegetables, the ones I peeled and flavored and baked, are superior in every way to the cold Subway toppings that linger in their plastic boxes under the flourescent lights. The heat and freshness of my veggies, the mild bite of the pepper, the satisfying crunch of the bread, all of these culminate in a meal that is, yes, simple in every way, but nourishing and pleasing. They stimulate the taste buds, appeal to my visual senses, and the olfactory ones as well.
This is why I cook at home, why I'm pleased when I resist the call of convenience. The gift of home-made food that delights the senses, that fills the belly, and satisfies the creative urge. What restaurant came compare to this?