New year resolutions may be as fragile as a dandelion in a hurricane, but my resolution for 2008 is to resist this retreat from reality. My phone doesn’t have a camera, and the last time I played a computer game was when the Commodore 64 represented the bleeding edge of technology. And despite the best efforts of those who should know better, I have not signed up on Facebook -- I am not interested in minute-by-minute updates on the lives of others, and I prefer conversation to communication.

I used to consider food to be little more than fuel; takeaways and pasta were the dull but reassuringly time-efficient staples of my diet. The only time I ate well was when I returned home and feasted on my mother’s cooking. Having tired of the rubbish I was eating, I resolved to start learning some of my mother’s recipes. I used to believe that cooking was a waste of my valuable time, but now it is the process I enjoy most. Rather than being the dull utilitarian practice I imagined, cooking is in fact the most creative all art forms. And there is something deeply satisfying about taking separate ingredients and creating something new and unique, which is then instantly consumed.

The great appeal of cooking is that while you can have a virtual friend and play online scrabble, you cannot cook a virtual saag aloo. The sensation of chopping and slicing and stirring, the smell of chilli powder and tandoori masala as it simmers with the olive oil and chopped tomatoes and onions and potatoes are all so gloriously real — and they demand one is engaged in the living moment.

Admittedly, I am fortunate because for me cooking is a choice rather than a chore or responsibility; my mother has spent the best part of her life feeding others and I suspect she would be less persuaded that cooking is as liberating as I claim. Nonetheless, cooking can be one of the best defences against encroaching virtuality. It is not only creative, it also encourages social interaction: when I ate takeaways I ate alone, now that I cook I want to invite others to share my food. When so much of modern life is passive, cooking demands an active engagement with the present, and it reminds us that life is not a spectator sport — it is there to be savoured.