The old proverb, 'Laugh and grow fat,' is a saying with sound sense behind it. Good temper and merriment certainly aid digestion. Mealtimes should be among the pleasantest occasions of the day. There is no reason why we should not enjoy partaking of the food, as well as take pleasure in the companionship of those who share our table. --from my old 1913 copy of Elementary Physiology and Hygiene by H.W. Conn, PhD, published first in 1906
When I was a child growing up in rural Bangladesh, chicken slaughters were high entertainment. I was six, blond, in a light cotton dress. My sister was eight, brown with the sun and barefoot. At the cook's summons, we left our books and blocks and tore to the back door, where we sat down for the day's best event. THWACK went the axe, off came the head, and we burbled happily as the headless bleeding carcass staggered dizzily about our yard.
Fast forward twenty plus years, and you'll find my family groaning in exstacy as we devour Martin's delectable Thai chicken and basil and sip his spinach-tofu soup. I wish I could say that I had nipped the Thai basil from my own garden, but as my indoor basil growing has proved sad, I bought it at the wonderful Asian Market in the next state over. So while we didn't know from which quarter our Thai basil originated, we did know where the chicken spent its few giddy years. Not in our backyard, but in our own county. The woman who sold us our organically grown, happy chicken lives in the green hills of our countryside, and she is serious about her chickens. Not only do they toddle around eating natural worms in a natural yard, they have a dignified death. Our chicken woman stretches out their necks with her own hands, and then she slices them and lets their blood pour into the soil of her farm. (Queue: Circle of Life). This is glorious, unless you are the chicken, but at least you haven't bitten off your neighbor's beak in desperation, which you might have if you had been "farmed" the industrial way.
But this is not a treatise for organic chickens, nor do I intend to go into industrial farming.
No, this is a happy reflection on SLOW FOOD.
For our chicken was plucked, frozen and much later stuffed with apples and onions and devoured in our dining room. Then we extended its memory by stewing it in a pot with fresh rosemary and oregano (grown indoors), basil (frozen from the summer garden), onions, carrots and celery. O, the smell as it flooded our house was delectable.
I grew up with "slow food." This is because, growing up in Bangladesh and Kenya, food was never fast. First of all, we didn't have one-stop shopping--no, my mother went to the greengrocers, the dryfoods store, the butcher (yes, pigs hanging and all), and bought roses and mangoes and whatever else from hawkers in the parking lot. Once home we had to soak all fresh food in a bleach solution; we 'made' our own drinking water in a chlorine machine, and there were no cans to crack open. We lived out of More with Less.
Believe me, now that I live in wintry Pennsylvania I take full advantage of cans and frozen food and already-soaked beans. But once and a while it does me good to slow down, to smell bread baking or the slow stewing of a chicken. Kids will slow you down, too--I deboned chicken with one hand and held Elspeth on my hip with the other. She was fascinated at the process, just as I once loved to watch chickens meet their doom. This slowing down is therapuetic, as is kneading bread, brewing wine (so I hear), and toasting your own granola. I absolutely despise fiddly tasks (Pastry chef? No!@#$!), but I love the rhythm of hearty, slow food.
Slow food is like a meditation of sorts. As its scent fills the crevices of my house, I am grateful for journey, the slow origins of the food itself and then for the process of preparing it. Of course one of the best things about slow food is the culmination of all that sensory anticipation, when you sit down with good people and eat that good food. And then the groans! The embarassing cacophony of utter joy!
So slow down. Take some time to thank your food for coming into your mouth. Feed some good people and drink some good wine. The most delicious things take the most time.
So now it's YOUR TURN: How do you slow down in a busy world? Post your comment below and edify us all!
Egg Photo Source: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Image:Egg_in_straw_nest.jpg
