Remake the world in the image of our meals
Reflection: #14
I woke up earlier than I expected on Saturday morning, considering that I had imbibed deeply into the previous night. Still, the sun and the cats wait for no man and the day had dawned, the sun was shining, and I felt surprisingly clear headed. I threw on shorts and a T-shirt, I had responsibilities, and Morris, the neighbor's cat whom I am taking care of, would be hungry.
Morris always talks to me while I pour out his food. He makes deep scratchy, punctuated meows that sound more like he's just saying "meh", "meh" in a throaty whisper. He continues “meh”-ing me until I pour the food in his bowl. Then he purrs contentedly. Morris must be getting pretty old, our neighbors have lived next door for ten years now, and he meandered into their yard, fully grown, right around the time they moved in, so we’ve perfected this ritual over time.
When I returned home, my wife was hungry and had decided to make breakfast. She had heated corn tortillas in a large pan and filled them with leftover pibil, a tinga-like achiote-flavored, pulled meat dish, served with shredded cabbage. Not exactly a traditional breakfast, but delicious.
We all bond over food, don't we?
Morris and I have become friends over the years and we have shared a ritual of “food preparation” of sorts. He rubs my legs while I prepare his food and he tells me to hurry up with his "meh, meh, meh" meows. Then, he often stops to “thank” me and requests a few pets before he starts eating. I’ve seen him gladly share his food with other outdoor cats, and he even, wisely, steps aside when the racoons come over for dinner. His willingness to share his meals is likely one of the reasons he’s lived a remarkably long life for an outside cat.
And, thinking about meals, with my wife, we often make and enjoy dinner together. She's the head chef and I'm the sous chef, but if we're honest, I just do what she tells me, which mostly is washing vegetables, mixing things, sautéing or stirring. She's the star of the show, and I'm happy to let her drive. We then enjoy the meal and each other’s company. When I think back over some of the best times in our lives, they often involve sharing a meal with family, friends or often, even strangers.
When we travel, we're the type of people who strike up conversations with the people at tables next to us, and, quite often, we all end up at one table, eating together. We've made many friends, both temporary and permanent this way.
Eating together brings people together, allows people to talk, encourages people to maybe even understand each other, or, at least, learn to respect one another. At the very least, a shared dinner reminds us that we’re all human and should simply learn to be civil to each other.
The world today, in many ways, feels meaner in recent years. People everywhere seem angry and on edge, ready to accuse each other. Ready to fight. A fight between families broke out at Disneyland recently. Disneyland. Perhaps because of this change in the atmosphere of society, we don't go out as much as we used to and we rarely now eat in restaurants and strike up conversations with people next to us. I imagine many of us itinerant, talkative epicureans have been staying home more than we did in days of yesteryear. First we were locked down and forced to stay home. Now, some of us lock ourselves away by choice.
But, as I said, people come together over meals, so it seems at the very time the world needs to share more meals together, we're collectively choosing not to. Sharing a meal together is a microcosm of the best humanity can be - family, friends, laughter, conversation, sharing with one another, drinking, learning about each other and we should remake more of our world in the image of our meals.
Who's hungry?
On a train ride from London to Edinburgh my wife and I struck up a conversation with two young men. We ended up enjoying lunch together and having a three hour conversation. Breaking bread, sharing experiences and stories, seeing one another’s humanity. This is the way forward.