As a writer, sometimes I pull my words like teeth, one-by-one, each painful and like enough to leave a scar. Other times, I build up an article or a post mechanically, like furniture. There is craft, yes, but also an established structure on which to hang my words. Like a table has four legs and a top but can be well executed by its maker, my job is to bring sparkle and polish to a classic framework.
And sometimes – typically after a few beers – the words just pour forth, easy and casual. Literary diarrhea, perhaps, or maybe my writing at its most natural – who really knows? When I write like this I write fast, trying to put to paper some quirky waypoint in my brain. If I wait, whatever thoughts I might have captured will fade into the background needs of my day: children, family, work, clients, stress, whatever. And poof, like a dream – or like Keyser Soze pissing on Dean Keaton’s flame – whatever thoughts I might have shared are gone.
What follows is one of those fast and furious writing moments. I had a thought that came straight out of the discussions of our Facebook community about an article on home-cooking and gender, and a second article by Joel Salatin, responding to the first. This thought became a Facebook status update. Homebrew Husband encouraged me to post this status here as a proper blog post, because Facebook status updates have a half life of about 14 seconds. So those of you who follow along on Facebook have probably seen this. For the rest of you, here you go.
Earlier today on this page there was a great conversation of priorities, real food, home cooking, gender roles, societal expectations and time pressure.
So I think it’s only right to come clean.
It’s 6:00 PM as I start writing out these thoughts. Food – growing it, cooking it and preserving it – is basically my job. In many ways I have become a spokesperson for homegrown and homemade. And right now I have no desire to get up and make dinner for my hungry, clamoring family. None.
This is reality. I grow food, I cook food. Over and over, I cook. And sometimes I love it, and sometimes it’s just what I do, and sometimes supermarket rotisserie chicken gets picked up or pizza gets ordered. All these options are really ok. This is what happens behind the scenes, after the Pinterest photos are taken and the blog posts are shared. This is the wonderful, messy compromise of life. Show me a person not making those compromises and I’ll show you some blowhard you wouldn’t want to have a beer with. So let’s get real.
People get polarized about food issues because they treat it like a religion. But folks, as important as pastured meats and organic and homegrown are – the point of good food is never to divide us.
Food done right brings people together, it gathers the stragglers around the table and it invites an answer to the questions, “how are you, really?” – “what did you do at school?” – “tell me more about your day?” Food done right is an extension of hospitality, an extension of the ancient code of extending shelter and a warm meal to a weary, cold traveler. Food done right is like something out of Corinthians: gracious, and kind, and forgiving.
“Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh” – this is the phrase Joel Salatin used to describe the critical importance of the food we take in, and the energy we use to make ourselves, and to exhort us to cook for ourselves, of real food. He uses this phrase to hammer home how important real food is, and for my part I do not disagree with him. These are my values, too.
But this phrase – “bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh” – it’s from the Bible, from the creation story of Genesis. It describes the creation of woman from the rib-bone of Adam, the first man.
I am not a religious person, but I think if I were asked to draw a message from Genesis 2:23, from “Bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh” it would be this: that we are all of the same stuff, all human, all fallible, all painfully grounded in those needs which serve the flesh: our food, our water, those rhythmic inhalations granted possible to us by the great garden in which we wander. These similarities have the potential to bring us together, in joy and even in feasting. Let’s not squander that potential on trivialities.
Bon Appetit.
And now I gotta go make dinner.
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Well said. Thank you for your blog – I enjoy it every time.
Erica – I just LOVE your honesty! Thank you!!
What comes to mind is what I’ve heard from numerous foreigners – Americans idolize convenience. Not that all convenience is inherently evil, but when are we going to slow down to smell the roses? It doesn’ t happen often, but when it does, my husband and I love cooking together. Sometimes our ‘ratatouille chef’ comes to help (that’s what our son has called himself since he was 3). With all of the “instant” things in life, cooking is a daily reminder for me of what’s important – its our meditation, our zen timeout. A time to reflect while I constantly stir my hopefully-not-gonna-burn roux.
Genese 2:22 “And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.” (Does this match a “GMO” Genetically Mutated Organism?)
Erica, as usual I loved what you had to say. I agree completely. It’s a matter of taking responsibility for what we eat in any circumstance. Is it easy? Absolutely not. Many times we’re to tired, busy , sick or whatever to cook. As long as we don’t lose site of the big picture we’re good. This should be taught in High School, oh, I think it was. It was called Home Ec.
Carol
And the congregation cried as one, “Amen sister!”
Thank you.
Nice post! Now I must go read all the linked articles. And thank you for not keeping it a status update. Things like this can definitely spur some good conversations, and so are better suited in an environment in which something productive can come of it. Keep up the great work.
And I totally agree about beer and writing… Taking, not so much for me.
LOVE this. We were at a BBQ and someone was horrified that I let the kids eat hot dogs. (“You? I thought you guys only ate HEALTHY food!!”) C’mon, it’s summer! I’m not going to bring pasture-raised, organic kosher dogs braised in the tears of Austrian virgins to the family party. Let the poor kids have dogs and cheetos and everyone will be fine.
“I’m not going to bring pasture-raised, organic kosher dogs braised in the tears of Austrian virgins to the family party. ”
Oh.my.gosh. This comment just made my WEEK!! 🙂
As JFK said “We don’t choose to cook dinner every night because it is easy. We choose it because it is hard.”* Well, sorta.
*“We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard.
[Address at Rice University, September 12 1962]”
Very good, cooking all the time is hard work. I too love it, I too tire. Keep up the good work.
The first paragraph was so well done, then the last paragraph gave me goose bumps. Way to catch those writing moments!
Yes, yes, yes!!! I grow my own. I raise chickens. And sometimes, I order pizza. Sometimes, I even drive thru Del Taco (gasp!!!)
This is not a competition. We don’t get points for being perfect. Be gentle with yourself and do what you can.
Erica, I’ve been in a bit of a blogging slump lately and you inspired me to write more, and more passionately, in the past week than I have in quite some time. After I wrote my original comment on your Facebook link with my objections to Salatin’s arguement and turned that into my first post, I had some great conversations that made me realize how true your second post, the one above, is, which prompted another long comment on Facebook and a new post today.
There are so many issues around food that deserve attention and discussoin, but I think it comes down to these two: making food and sharing it. I’d argue that the second is even marginally more important than the first. I’m lucky in that my parents both knew how to cook and taught me, but more than that, they saw the value in sharing a meal, even if that meal was at a Chinese food restaurant in between getting home from work and carting me and my sisters to activities and trying to help us with homework. The important thing was that we were focused on each other during that time (and by the way, 20 years later the value of those dinners still holds–my mom came up with the “tip game” and my sisters and I actually fought to see who could figure out the tip the fastest. I still think about every time I get the check at a restaurant).
Sharing food doesn’t even have to be at a formal meal with immediate family sitting around a table, which I think is part of the original problem of idealizing a home-cooked meal. What matters is genuine care and interest in the person you’re breaking bread with.
Gah, and pardon all the typos.
Well written and, more importantly, well thought. 😉
Yes!!! Great post!
I did see this on FB, and am glad to see it here as well. It is so true! Very well said; there is a reason I keep coming back to read your writing and enjoy staying up to date with your FB posts. Keep it up!
As a very wise person once said “On the Essentials Unity, the Non Essentials Liberty, and in all things Charity” St. Augustine. Lots of Wesleyan also quote it and I think it fits with food too. We are organic farmers, but we still order pizza, and sometimes even have a soda. I’m just glad we live in a country where we still have liberty to do so.
As a working mom, what to cook for dinner is a frequent conversation at my work. I methodically plan our dinner menu every week. It is probably a little high in carbohydrates (which is ironic because we are gluten free), but it works. It must be done in 30 minutes or less, chopping included. Sometimes prep worked is done the night before, but not every night. Our schedule is:
Monday: Sandwich/panini
Tuesday: pizza/pasta
Wednesday: slow cooker
Thursday: Something kind of premade from Costco (such as tamales or indian chicken) or using up leftover/freezer.
Friday: leftovers or dinner out.
Sat./Sun: fish or something that takes a while.
Our pizza doesn’t change much, as my daughter thinks all pizza should have pineapple, but everything else changes frequently. I’ve given up making my own meatballs. But we have good food most nights.
Erica, I love your thoughtful writing and I know you need breaks. Haven’t seen anything new lately so I send my regards . I hope you are ok. I look forward eagerly to your next post. Neta
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D.
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