….. new beginnings made me nervous. Even if over brunch.
This story is shared by my husband, giving his own side of the tale of when we first met. And similar to mine, it flows into a courtship of brunch, at times even more so than the start of our relationship.
……any dinner rooted in the idea of a gratified holiday simply doesn’t seem appealing
How do our food traditions change in the wake of hard times? Do they become a solace, a space for reprieve, or do they adjust or perhaps fade away? The following piece was as cathartic as it was difficult to write, as I reflect on a temporary pause on one of my most loved of foodie holidays.
The ritual of Shepard’s Pie is critical to its enjoyment
To read Tom’s story is to feel like you have a seat at the table. You can anticipate the coordinated movement of a family meal, passing along the plates, requesting someone to share the gravy when they are done, and having your glass generously topped off. No need to rush through dinner, there are no plans afterwards other than to continue the informal chat and digest with a tea.
This is a story of homecomings, humble ceremony, and pie.
Nothing super fancy, but it was what you’d imagine a taste of home to be
Rachel and I met while working for a non-governmental organization in London, UK, supporting the same projects in different ways – her with a mastery of figures and accountancy, myself on the programming side. To know Rachel is to know someone who is calm, cool, collected, and ever surprising. From a consistent demeanour regardless of what trials came up at work, to angelic choiring and a fevered passion for rugby, she is a genuinely friendly and talented soul. When she first shared the story below, I was engulfed by a beautiful tale of two families who came together by random happenstance and have built a continued history with food playing a supporting role – naturally. It’s incredibly kind that Rachel, and(!) both sets of families, have shared this touching story and their treasured recipe with Feasting Hearts.
This is a story of friendly neighbours, a bright idea, and cake.
Just describing them makes my mouth water
While food often remind us of the ones we love and loved, they can also trigger our endearment for a place. A holiday destination with neon vivid sunsets and appetizers of local cheeses drizzled with honey. A local café where you met your soulmate, and that just so happens to bake a decadent chocolate banana bread. Or, as my incredibly talented and artistic sister-in-law has shared, it can be your hometown, where some of your most memorable food moments were born.
Silvia is a gifted soul in many regards, and I am so blessed she has shared this story reflecting her affection for the island at the bottom of the boot. An annual tradition that has made its way from the family kitchen table in Sicily to her new home in London.
This is a story of seasonal sweets, humble autumn dinners, and baked copper.
…satisfactory but missing a key ingredient
Emily has kindly written not only one, but two stories to Feasting Hearts, both with very different dispositions. The story below has all the elements of that special dish from a favourite loved one – the anticipation when you see the ingredients out in preparation, or when you come home and it is sitting on the kitchen counter ready for tomorrows lunch. And while you can do your best to replicate it on your own, as Emily reminds us, there is often a special touch that cannot be found in even the most descriptive of recipes.
Chai tea is a combination of two tastes I really dislike.
This is the second piece shared by Emily, a kind hearted soul I once lived with when we both worked in Northern Lebanon years back. From workplace confidants to nightlife buddies, our friendship continues to bloom in spite of distance and time.
Her story is a reminder that not all food memories are happy ones, not all foods pleasing to the palette or hearts. This is a story of sorrow, tradition, and spice.
…. going blueberry picking with my kids always brings back memories of those summers visiting them
Chelsie’s piece paints a picture of idyllic summers, complete with family traditions, water sports, and a touch of daring adventure. The ones that stay with you and come back in comforting memories when you least expect it – for example, at a stall by the side of the highway. This is a memory of grandparents, blueberries, and bears.
Big letters adorned the top of the page – Dad’s Menu
It was just a few days after his mother had moved out. Joel’s parents were getting divorced, and his childhood home at the end of the Bakerloo line went from a party of four to a party of three. Papa B was sitting at the dining room table, typing away on their desktop computer. Big letters adorned the top of the page – Dad’s Menu.
…finally, a beautiful photo arrives
The memory of the wait is very vivid, with the concern for Sarah who was giving birth to her baby, the emotion for Stefano who was about to become a father, the prayers that everything would go well… and, finally, a beautiful photo arrives, with a mother and a dad overwhelmed by emotion and a small creature, with a lot of hair and two scrutinizing eyes
…a source of comfort, a touchstone of normality
During that time, food served not only as a much-needed calorie base for my healing body, but a source of comfort, a touch stone of normality.
And sometimes, it goes into icing
I never got to meet my maternal grandmother. She suddenly and tragically passed away a mere six months before my mom gave birth to my older sister.
They were giggling like children…
I came back once from university one weekend, and my mom’s house had a nice smell seeping from it. As soon as I opened the door, the smell of butter and this heat just engulfed me.
That restaurant is the origin of our love story
It’s interesting what we remember about certain events. The most seemingly banal of circumstances can become imprinted in your mind as they become life shifting (or shaping, depending how you look at it).
…it’s very delicious, yet not my favourite
Falafel. It is a popular and cheap food in Lebanon, it is very delicious, yet not my favourite.
Until she's with us and making it, it's her legacy
When one side of your family is from Sicily, food is an important aspect of life. Your events and memories almost always revolve around food.