EcoHearth: Come Home to the Earth

When I was 20, I worked as a nanny for a family in Toulon on the French Mediterranean coast. In exchange for working as housekeeper, babysitter and granny-sitter for three boarding mémés (grandmothers), I learned French. But the greater compensation was the opportunity to experience plant foods that were treated with reverence, and local food as an art and cultural celebration.

Every day was a gastronomic journey and often required a trip to the market for fresh vegetables, fruit, bread, cheese, olives, fish and meat. Meals were prepared slowly and eaten slowly. Just as company and companionship are rooted in the Latin words for sharing bread, this traditional French family not only fed off the richness at the table, but also the hearty conversation that cropped up around scrumptious meals.

Often accompanied by wine, a typical midday dinner would open with crudités—crisp peppers, sweet fennel, endive, succulent tomatoes—dressed with simple vinaigrette and mopped up with fresh baguette. The main course might be soupe de poisson— freshly caught, rainbow-colored fish simmered in a saffron-thyme-tomato broth. Next would be a simple garden salad with the requisite vinaigrette and more bread to clean the plate. Then, a regional delegation of heritage cheeses would arrive. If in season, fresh almonds could be dessert—the apricot-like flesh still around the shell and the ivory prize infused with aromatic almond essence. Anyone needing an extra boost would crown the meal with an espresso.

Though basic to many cultures for millennia, slow food has marched back into the consciousness of industrialized societies, charismatically promoted by Italian food activist Carlo Petrini as a reaction to fast food. According to the Slow Food Manifesto, “To be worthy of the name, Homo Sapiens should rid himself of speed before it reduces him to a species in danger of extinction.” The international Slow Food Movement was founded on the concept of eco-gastronomy, insisting that food should be delicious, clean and fair. Slow Food works to address “the disappearance of local food traditions and people’s dwindling interest in the food they eat, where it comes from, how it tastes, and how our food choices affect the rest of the world.”

Decades after living in France and not much heavier, my food philosophy has also been in line with author Michael Pollan’s mantra: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” Fresh, local and seasonal food is medicine for the body and spirit, and it’s the primary way I take responsibility for my health.

My husband cultivates most of our vegetables, playing music for them from a solar-powered radio. Cognizant of the energy the plants sacrifice for us, nothing goes to waste. An occasional pumpkin ends up in the compost, where it becomes the worms’ banquet.

Without slow food and appreciative company around the table, our relationship to the plant spirits would be wanting. And rethinking our food as living beings is fundamental to caring for the place that cares for us.

Further recommended reading:
In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto by Michael Pollan

Comments (0)

Subscribe to this comment's RSS feed

Write comment