Eating is the most ordinary act human beings carry out.
Simple or sophisticated, food is eaten all the same. We chew it, take it in, discard it. If it is good, we enjoy it — and, at best, it nourishes us.
Food is a reminder that we can choose. Or at least, that is what we think. Eating is no longer so much an act of freedom as one of availability. More and more, we all eat the same things. Food globalization gains ground on every corner. What we eat depends less and less on what the land gives us, or on identity, or on the time of year, or even on the ripening or cooking time of an ingredient. Sometimes, not even on our own taste.
I hope we find the time to observe what we eat and whether it REALLY IS what we think we are eating. Eating, though it seems mechanical, is a highly conscious act. Sometimes we do it only to silence our hunger, without seeking what is nourishing, what is flavorful, or with whom we will share it. Today everything moves so fast. It seems there is no longer time even for the primordial and irreplaceable act of eating. And yet we must eat.
I envision a free, spontaneous, creative, and sincere space for talking about food. This is not an academic forum, and the only thing you are invited to taste here are stories — and, on another level (if you make them), the dishes those stories describe.
Here, people contribute stories that describe their work and their passions — which sometimes coincide. These stories share a deep connection to food, from the soil and the seed all the way to a sip, a spoonful, or a bite. They carry the mark of time, of trades, techniques, and processes, as well as of places, memories, sensations, and feelings. I invite you to read them.