How to Cook Your Life
Is food precious? Is food worth caring about? Are you precious? Are you worth caring about? –Edward Brown
Mind if I wax philosophical for a minute? I have always felt there was something divine in working with your hands. We live so much in our heads most of the time, that when our hands get to make something—gluing on buttons or writing a letter or chopping an onion —something magical happens. The middleman of experiencing life present when we read a book or watch a movie has left the building and suddenly, we ourselves are creating, we’re engaged, we’re living. And when you share with others whatever you have made from your hands? That’s the best of the best, and truly, what I’m always trying to get at here. That’s why, in a nutshell, I think cooking and crafting go hand in hand in the effort to create a meaningful life.
So: last night. I finally had my fill of bad reality television. And please don’t misunderstand me: I happen to really love bad reality television (this season of The Bachelor is my Monday night raison d’etre). But on a Sunday night, after a truly soul satisfying weekend, Confession of a Former Teen Idol didn’t seem right. I wanted something quieter, something slower, and I just didn’t feel like reading. So I climbed into bed with the lights off and my headphones on and watched a movie that has been in my Netflix queue for months.
And here’s where real life and philosophy meet: How to Cook Your Life follows Zen cook, Edward Brown. He is not what you might expect from a guy in robes: he is irritable (and at times irritating), impatient, emotional, giggly, frustrated by hard-to-open packaging on cheese and vinegar. He is, you could say, just like the rest of us. But what held me in a trance (beyond the sequence on kneading bread which was amazing) was his philosophy of the meaning of cooking, the meditation of cooking, and the importance of food in our lives:
If any of us who are interested in actually taking care of food, actually cooking food, enjoying food, enjoying food in the company of family and friends, getting together with others, nourishing yourself, nourishing others…where does it come from? It doesn’t come out of a package. That’s convenient. But actually nourishing yourself and other people doesn’t finally come out of a package. It comes out of your heart. It comes out of your connecting with food, connecting with others.
His point is not, I think, that packaged food is terrible, but that even the pleasantest Mickey D’s meal can’t hold quite the same potential for nourishment and connection as the humblest homemade dinner. Can I get an amen?
I have been surprised to find, with all this unstructured time on my hands, how rushed and harried I still feel. This movie made me remember that I alone set the pace of my life. I can choose how to respond to the world, and the mad dash for faster, better, more, more, another errand, another appointment, is to a large extent something I can either choose to participate in or mitigate as much as possible. I find it so easy to get caught up in mindless running around, that the reminder to be present while I am stirring a pot and going about my day is, for me, an extraordinarily welcome and, well, necessary one.
You might care about yourself enough to cook. [Cooking] brings your hands nourishment because your hands get to be hands, they get to actually do something rather than sitting around all day while you’re entertaining yourself with your ipod and your internet. Our hands don’t get to do much anymore. [When you cook] Your hands get to be happy, your body starts to be happy; but oh no, we wouldn’t want to bother. That’s too much work.
But the “work,” we put in is where the real reward comes out. The work of making, and sharing what we make, and being present all the while, brings meaning and satisfaction. And satisfaction and meaning? Well, that’s certainly some of what I want out of life. I’m grateful I got a perfectly-timed reminder about what’s important. Do you need one, too?
Phoo-D: That is a beautiful philosophy. Thank you for sharing it with us. For me cooking is a way of both losing myself in the moment and celebrating one of the elemental rituals of being alive.1 year ago
Koren: I watched this documentary a few weeks ago after hearing about it on a few food blogs. I found it incredibly beautiful and inspiring. Oddly, I had felt compelled to buy a copper teapot at a rummage sale the day before I watched this, and now it holds more meaning for me - every time I look at it I think of Edwards emotional description of the solace he found in the sight of a banged up, yet perfect, teapot.1 year ago
Ann: This was a lovely reminder to appreciate the simple things. All that dashing around sometimes reminds me of a race to see how fast I can spend my money - which leads me to being depressed and broke at the end of the day. You summed this message up so beautifully without me having to go out and rent this movie now. Oops that might be not “really living” - but oh well. Now I have time to go make something with my hands! Okay, I’m done with this long-winded comment. I’m enjoying your frequent posts, Sarah!1 year ago
Dana McCauley: On a light note, have you ever read the Jean Paul Sartre Cookbook? It’s one of the funniest spoofs on philosphy and cooking I’ve ever seen.
You can check it out here:http://madelyn.utahunderground.net/links/jeanpaulsatrecookbook.html1 year ago
Kristina: AMEN! Great post. Home cooking is so fulfilling and meaningful, I don’t know what I’d do without it.1 year ago
Sarah: PhooD, So beautifull put, and I totally agree.
Koren, What a great story! I found the movie so inspiring, too, and I just loved when he was talking about the copper teapots his definition of sincerity — allowing your blemishes to show.
Ann, I know exactly what you mean, and it’s been a really interesting exercise in awareness to suddenly have a lot less money to spend. Yeah, go make something!
And btw, I love long-winded comments.
Dana, I will have to check that out. Sounds pretty hilarious. Thanks for the tip!
Kristina, It’s so fulfilling in this really elemental way, isn’t it? One of the cheapest forms of therapy, and way more affordable than reflexology.
1 year ago
Leah: Just recently I hit a writing roadblock. When I googled “blog post ideas” I found this advice: “Don’t write about what you had for lunch — no one cares.”
Depressing! If you have a fantastic lunch, I care! I want you to tell us about it! Cooking/painting/ drawing/making almost puts me in a meditative state. Thanks for reminding me how valuable this is.1 year ago
Sarah Jane: Amen and pass the stock pot.1 year ago
sarah: Oh my goodness, Dana, I just had to report back to say that was hilarious.1 year ago
DD: I was recently laid off (just got a new job) and was home for 2-1/2 months. It seems like time for fun and organizing your life but I felt rushed and stressed the whole time too. My best advice is 1) don’t panic 2) have a consistent daily routine. And definitely do all those fun projects you’ve been waiting for the time to do.
1 year ago
Sarah: DD, That is really helpful advice, thank you. I need to get that “consistent daily routine” part down.
1 year ago
leafygreen: Amen from me too!
Last night they got chicken and vegetable stir-fry with rice. They loved it so much more, maybe it was the love I put into chopping and preparing the meal??
Two nights ago I made my kids some fish fingers (aka fish sticks) and frozen potato wedges (aka potato skins?) with some vegetables on the side. A balanced meal by all accounts but it just seemed so wrong to have processed fish and potatos on their plate
I have also tried to find the joy in chores I previously disliked. Especially hanging out the clothes to dry (outdoor clothes lines are the standard here in Australia - the original wind and solar powered drier!). It used to be a chore, now I treasure the clothes that my kids have worn and enjoy some time in the sun honouring and caring for my family!
Gotta love the positive spin!
(how’s that for a long-winded post?!)1 year ago