What is food for you?

Jul 26

I wanted to start writing a blog since forever, honestly.

Every time I wanted to start, I found a reason not to.

My laptop wasn’t the right one, I was busy with work, I don’t know how to write in English, what can I write about? How do I write? What if nobody will read it?

But today, on this Sunday morning, I decided to stop listening to these 10,000 voices in my head that just want to talk, and I decided to write.

It doesn’t matter how, it doesn’t matter why.

Just write.

And if I don’t know how to write, if nobody will read it, if I will make mistakes… who cares?

I JUST WANT TO WRITE!

Today I want to write about what food is for me, for you, for us.

This is a very deep question for me.

Food for me is connection. Food for me is safety.

I grew up in a village, a very small village. My village has 2,000 inhabitants, with tons of green spaces and hills all around.

In the summer, I used to pick hazelnuts with my grandma and sell them to our neighbours to make hazelnut paste. Later on, Ferrero came, and we started selling our hazelnuts to make Nutella.

I don’t know where you grew up, but I can tell you a bit more about village life.

Life is slow, or at least it used to be. I moved abroad twelve years ago, and I am not sure if it is still slow there.

But in my memories, it is still like that.

I remember the sunsets and the grasshoppers singing in the summer. The first tomatoes from my grandmother’s garden and the afternoons spent peeling peas together.

Life in my village was slow, but life in my home wasn’t.

Unfortunately, my mother suffered from chronic sadness, and some days were very difficult during my childhood.

Despite the sun shining in the summer, the garden being so green and alive, home often felt very sad and empty.

I grew up with a single mother and a strong grandmother. My grandmother is the reason why I am so connected to the garden and to food.

My mother and my grandmother are the reason why I am so connected to womanhood and why I am so independent.

Through their adversities, I learned to take care of myself and to be resilient.

As I mentioned, things at home weren’t easy. It was the beginning of the 21st century, many things were changing, and my mother, after a painful divorce, had to start working and facing many new challenges.

Growing up in that environment often made me feel confused, but there was one thing that always kept me grounded.

That was: food.

My grandma had (and she still has) this philosophy about food.

It doesn’t matter what happens around you, or how much pain you are feeling, healthy food will always have the power to soothe you.

It didn’t matter how much sadness there was at home.

She always provided a healthy meal on the table.

Indeed, that helped.

Growing up, I didn’t have many anchors around me, but I am so grateful that food was my biggest one.

My grandma unconsciously taught me that food is the glue of life, of connections.

Nowadays, I live in a busy city, Amsterdam.

Often, I find it difficult to stay connected to my roots, and my relationship with food gets carried away by the thousand errands and chores of my day.

You walk into the supermarket and you can find so many ready-made meals. Everywhere I look, I feel pushed to use food as a way to survive, to make it quick, to get it done fast.

It feels to me almost like society nowadays sees food as a chore, something that worries us.

Something that needs to be made quickly and that gives us an extra task on our to-do list.

But despite all these messages around me, I still consciously choose to believe that food is a blessing.

It is a way to celebrate life. Food gives us the opportunity to connect with Mother Nature and to feel connected to ourselves and to one another.

Think about it. Many of your happiest memories probably revolve around a meal: birthdays, celebrations, festivities.

Food was always there to comfort you, to make you feel supported and warm.

If I think retrospectively, how was it in the past? When did food become a chore instead of a pleasure?

I wanted to open this blog with this question: what is food for you?

I wanted to start with a blog post that doesn’t give answers, but creates questions. I want to conclude this first post by wondering together and bringing more awareness to food.

And hoping that perhaps, with your next meal, you will take a second to feel grateful for it.

We need to eat to survive, so why don’t we make it more of a celebration?

I hope you enjoyed this messy flow of thoughts and words here. And if you feel inspired to share your thoughts and memories about food with me, just know that I would love to hear them!

In a messy, wonderful, lively way.

This is the first blog post, but surely not the last one!