I am one of those who never knew need, who always had food on her plate, who was born to more possibilities than a single life can hold.
It may just be that this luck was what allowed me to stop and think about the elements of life more deeply, more purposefully. It has driven me to strip down my life and interests to some primitive values : a roof, a dinner, a family, fabric on my back. To those raw elements I have been trying in the past years to give another dimension : an aesthetic, a meaning, a sense of purpose.
To those simple needs, I give all my attention and dedication : to grow some herbs on a tiny patch, to sew my garments together, to put together a room into a home, to choose the ones I make my family and care for them, to cook, to grill, to share.
Baking a crusty loaf of bread, and watching it rise on the counter, ditching the supermarket for the farmers’ market, meeting the people who grow your food, makes more sense than ever to me.
As the pace of our lives speeds up and we slowly lose basic skills that have been passing on from generation to generation for centuries, as the environmental, health and social issues become increasingly urgent, I firmly believe in the power of food to, if not solve, at least better those issues.
As an activity we perform three times a day every day (for the luckiest of us), eating is central in our lives and in our societies. It is a matter of survival, as well as pleasure. Sourcing locally reasonably produced ingredients is a first step to slowing down global warming, but also to recreate a sense of community with the farmers who produce our food, and of meaning and connection to the land we inhabit. Cooking your own meals is grounding, satisfying, and, well…easy.
If I can get just a few people to feel less daunted by the act of cooking, to feel comfortable cooking meals for themselves and those they care for, and to find some joy in the process, I will consider this a success.
Welcome to Mûr.