My life has been governed by food. Which is a ridiculous thing to say, of course: everyone’s lives are governed by food. It’s not like we can live without the stuff.
So, what I actually mean to say is that all the markers of my life have involved food. A childhood spent in my dad’s bakery, making dough dolls, baking them in time for school (raisin eyes picked out, heads chewed off by first break). Twirling a wedding cake on its stand, looking for a perfection that would never come. Waiting by a river border crossing, stilling my nerves about the journey to come by balling sticky rice in the palm of my hand. Finally nailing Christmas dinner, everyone happily packed around a too-small table. Or moving to one of the most diverse cities in Europe - and discovering that from there I could eat my way around the world.
Food is, for me, a marker of change. It punctuates the passing of time. It describes cultures and traditions and people. It tells stories – in the making, the serving and the enjoying of it.
In good times and in bad, when things go up (or just go tits up), there is always food.
It marks things gained, and things lost.
It is a life, in food.
It is the world, on a plate.
And that’s where this starts. Thanks for joining me on my adventures.
Image: Jan Chlebik, Kampus, 2021