School starts on the 30th...about 13 days from now. All my classes are cooking related...save the online English Comp class I have to take. I'm sure I won't be hitting the kitchen right off the bat...but, I'm thrilled to be moving forward on it. I was trying to explain to someone the other day what my love of food...especially real food...is about. It's hard to explain. While I do love to eat...the thing that brings tears to my eyes isn't about eating. It's about people. It's about history. It's about a common thread. It's about an art. It's about culture. It's about communing with our Earth. It's about painting with God's brushes. It's about nourishing more than just bodies...it's about nourishing souls.
I love that God gave us the practical means to create beauty. He gave us all the nutrients, the vitamins, the minerals, the proteins, etc. But, just for our pleasure...He packaged it in the most vibrant colors, textures, flavors, smells...sounds, even. That's why I scoff every time someone says "food is just fuel." If that were true, why wouldn't we just have a pile of goo on our plate, like they eat on The Matrix? While I agree with the allegory of The Matrix, I take exception to the idea that to be enlightened to the tricks played on your life every day, means that one would live in the land of industrial gray and a pile of uninspiring gruel. It's so puzzling. Food is a multi-sensory experience...a concert of God's bounty.
I think that's why I see processed food as such an abomination. To feed your family and yourself solely on the pre-packaged notion of food that's readily available is like putting Ansel Adams to work at Olan Mills, Martin Scorsese in charge of pushing the slide button, putting Monet to applying stickers all over poster board...or Frank Lloyd Wright to setting up a tent. It is to short change the very essence of what makes us, and keeps us, human.
It's no doubt that there is a movement swelling, here. It's no doubt that I am determined to be a part of it. I feel a strong sense of duty to bring as many of you with me, as I can. However, more than anything, I can't wait to have a kitchen full of friends, a big harvest weekend celebration, a warm gathering to feast on the fruits of our labors. I can't wait to help a hurting loved one heal, and create a place where a connection to those who went before, is as palpable as the modern music playing on the iPod. I want to be in a proverbial montage of women standing over a pot of food, and adding flavor until their heart says..."they'll love that." I want to weave the backdrop for the moments when my grandchildren walk into cafe, somewhere in the world, on their travels, and are automatically transported to a moment...when they remember just how I looked when I helped them embrace a beautiful aspect of themselves, or realize something about life and understanding. I want to create the kind of reference that connects life today, to a point in the past...the kind of reference that helps bring about the realization of purpose...even years after the fact. I want the generations that come from me, to hear my voice speaking of their immense worth, as they sit over a bowl of soup, or pass by a beautiful vegetable garden. I want to create a place where people know they can go...and get fed...body and soul....I want to feed people.