Unexpected Contentment

I don't really like cooking.  I do all sorts of things to avoid it and when the other half says, "Let's scrounge for food tonight," I readily agree.  So why is it that when I when I am preparing food, I often encounter an unexpected feeling of contentment and even (huh?) happiness?  Maybe it's because I'm thankful to have something to cook.  Maybe it's because my family is near and okay.  Maybe I'm doing what I should do, so I feel satisfaction.