One must be careful when choosing an art: Some things will become more achingly beautiful, others will be ruined by want of an instrument or a desire for better technique unless art becomes everything and anything, it becomes you.
I didn’t plan our food as well for our recent trip. I’m not sure why, maybe, at some level, I didn’t think we would go. I love cooking. I love eating. Some of my favorite memories are around food, its consumption, its preparation, its discovery. I always had mixed feelings about the food-porn infesting our social-media accounts, until I started doing it myself. There is something about eating with our eyes first, although, I would argue, often we start eating with our nose long before we see the food. If you could smell this what would it smell like? Is rustic a smell? Has the wood lost its sappiness? Is that bacon or mushrooms? I’m sure, woodiness would play a part in that. I know of a frequent faster who takes cooking classes when fasting, claiming the food-satisfaction of eyes & nose more than makes up for his hunger. Just for fun get a piece of citrus lemon, lime, orange, or something more exotic like yuzu. Smell it taste it now look at the picture again. Has it changed? Or have you?
I used to use psychedelics as a palette cleanser. Not necessarily during a meal or its making, a process inherently dangerous with potentially great rewards, rather around the process of eating since it can become habituated and heavy. Our culture is good at creating a permanent state of indigestion, turning us from wild geese into foie gras for someone else’s table.
The process begins before we are born, potential without fermentation. I always liked Hyatt’s reminder “We think bacteria are for culture, it is good to remember culture is for bacteria.”
If you’re enjoying these experiments why not share them with someone else who might enjoy Dr. Con’s lab? After all, it’s better to be a volunteer than a conscript.
