THE LOST ART OF DINING

The craft of dining has been forgotten in our fast-paced and hectic world, but it doesn’t have to be. Our residences are the ideal backdrop to prepare, surrounded by all the items we cherish. Let’s embrace creativity and rediscover unforgettable moments, right in our own spaces.

At HOME Dining

Our world is so varied now that we can take ourselves virtually anywhere simply by altering our environment, right within our own homes. Décor, attire, melodies, and even the dishes we prepare and how we arrange to present it.

The World At Our Table

As a woman in my sixties, I could compose countless books regarding the destinations I’ve visited, and I am certain you could as well. The cuisines and cultures I’ve immersed myself in, including some of the unusual experiences I’ve had, have all elevated my dining journey.

Once a parent with grown children, I decided to relocate to another nation. My youngest (of four) was about to commence college and after being a single mother for all those years, I was prepared for ‘me’!

I did not utter a single word of the language and had scant knowledge of the culture. Nevertheless, during my three years in Brazil, I learned to communicate in Portuguese and came to value the significance of gathering to share a meal.

As a young lady, long before motherhood, I had a profound interest in Asian culture. While residing in Washington DC, I enrolled in language classes at the Japan American Society and began exploring not just the language, but also everything I could gather about the culture: Novels, recipe books, customs, and history.

Food was the one domain, I discovered, through which an entire culture reveals itself most vibrantly and proudly. Living in DC during the 70s was advantageous. There were many elegant Japanese eateries at that time. Not exclusively sushi venues owned by non-Japanese. I dined out and brought the flavors back to my kitchen to experiment.

Life Is Our Greatest Teacher

Years later, surprisingly, my first two sons were the offspring of an Asian father, but that saga is for another time… maybe.

I acquired the skills to prepare Japanese, Korean, and Chinese cuisine both through association and education. Of the three, Japanese culture particularly captured my fascination.

There exists a saying in Japanese that resonated with me: “Nothing in nature is flawless; therefore, imperfection is indeed perfection.” I realized my imperfect endeavors to recreate the dishes in my kitchen would be, in truth, perfect.

Harmony, equilibrium, and contrasting hues were aspects I had to relearn regarding visuals from a Japanese standpoint. Sound was another element that was novel to me.

Sound was said to affect one’s mood, promote tranquility, or disrupt it, making the study of the Japanese tea ceremony a truly captivating introduction to these viewpoints.

Learn From Our Environment

The Western eye, alongside the perception of sound, was something I suppose I never truly focused on until I began to perceive it through an Eastern lens. We appear to have an inherent need for symmetry, balance, and uniformity.

However, as I came to appreciate the distinct contrast in Japanese culture, I simultaneously began to value my own culture for the very first time. They were remarkably dissimilar, and I found that I cherished that.

I am, by nature, quite a visual individual, and despite my age, my senses remain keenly perceptive. Utilizing my home and the experiences of my life as the canvas to craft the visual narratives I aspire to tell is a gratifying passion I would wish for anyone!

Thus, how does all of this relate to my enthusiasm for cooking and dining?

Whisk

Whisk and Dine is the title I chose for my little universe here for numerous reasons. While we Westerners recognize a Whisk as a metallic (or sometimes plastic) utensil used to blend food.

The Japanese whisk I encountered captivated me the most. The bamboo, short

A hair brush or whisk that was utilized to blend the green tea paste for, and during the tea ceremony.

Its sound played a significant part in establishing the atmosphere. The gentle yet resilient bristles swirling against the porcelain dish are designed to please the senses, soothe the mind, and rejuvenate the spirit.

This serene interval of waiting had an almost hypnotic impact. It reminded me of how hectic life can become, and that a simple pause to listen to small repetitive sounds is something I rarely take the time to experience.

Since then, I have welcomed the whisk into my kitchen in an entirely different manner. When I hear the metal glide against the metal bowl, with liquid pooled between them, generating something that will evolve into a memorable culinary experience; that sound now provides me with tranquility and joy.

Dine

In the ‘dining’ of the tea ceremony, it was not merely about the tea, or even what might have been provided to eat alongside it. It centered around the human connection. What the participants contributed to the experience of themselves.

A manifestation as much as a word. The artifacts intentionally arranged on the table by the preparer, items that narrated their own story.

Do we comprehend how to dine in this manner? I worry we are losing the craft of human connection. Text messages and emojis have supplanted facial expressions and spoken words. The artistry of conversation pieces on the dining table is nearly nonexistent, as there IS no longer a table we set for dining. We dine out, we eat in front of screens, we consume on the move.

The World On My Plate

Indeed. The craft of the table, the significance of storytelling, the preparation to share a moment along with a meal is something I yearn for. Don’t you?

Six years into this exhilarating realm of ‘Food Blogging,’ I resolved to create something tangible to share several of my recipes and narratives. I desired a book. Nothing fancy, or ‘educational‘ but rather something to grasp in the hand, flip through, and read at leisure.

Greeting cards used to feel like that to me. Now we simply send a text message and call it a day. Can you believe I possess a collection of greeting cards sent to my grandmother? Many of them are postmarked from the 1940s.

The World On My Plate became my first little greeting card that I wanted to offer to you. If you appreciate it, perhaps I will create another one for you.

Let’s Dine!

Together, let’s reclaim the days of yore, and discover new ways to reinstate the art of dining back into our lives, in our homes, alongside all our cherished items. xoxo