In her last published memoirs, “My Life in France," Julia Childs laments that people don’t seem to cook at home anymore. Mrs. Childs brought French home cooking – la cuisine bourgeoisie – to America with an exuberance and passion igniting a renewed interest in cooking in the 1970s. How sad it seems however that at the dawn of the 21st century the interest in cooking at home is waning.
Our whirling dervish lifestyles spin faster and faster and at times seem out of control. Many feel they do not have the time, the inclination, the ability or the energy to prepare a wholesome made from scratch meal on a regular basis. In duress they succumb to the manufactured, seemingly tasteless messes of the Super Marche´ food counters or worse – frozen packages of heat and serve glop, cans of condensed soup or boxes of ground meat aid - chanting a tired mantra of fill the bellies and be done.
Mass manufacturing, with exceptions, bastardizes all that is fine and good of honest, home cooked food. Any cooking that aims at satisfying hunger alone produces the lowest level of cuisine. Eating is the pursuit of flavor. Good taste should be the result of personal selection and one cannot make a choice without a certain amount of general knowledge. The hallmarks of good cooking are simplicity, quality of ingredients and freshness of flavor.
M.F.K. Fisher, in philosophic manner, wrote “When I write about hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth, and the love of it…and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied.” The human must eat and drink to survive. Nay it must do more. What then sets us apart from our Neanderthal ancestors? When eating brings love and warmth and comfort and yes, even sensuality to our very core then it becomes nourishment for the soul.
Food that possesses the quality of soul provides the same nurturing qualities to our being as viewing a scenic vista or a painting of a master, a stroll through a country garden, or the smell of an infant freshly bathed and powdered cradled in mothers arms. It’s like the light streaming through a Baptist window. Without spiritual nourishment one can become as hollow a creature as a Nosferatu. The qualities of a well made meal, particularly one lovingly prepared at home, shared with friends or loved ones – the very essence of breaking bread together- restores our soul.
