The Zen of Nom: Sharing.
Sharing: A beautiful thing, isn’t it?
It’s in the crunch of a french fry taken from a common plate.
In the luscious creaminess of that one taste of salted caramel ice cream on a hot day.
A sip of steaming coffee when you’re waiting for a bus on a snowy, dark and freezing winter morning.
It’s that warm feeling of someone wanting you to experience joy, that pure happiness that only the food can bring.
But we all know it’s not only about the food, is it? It’s also the company, the circumstances and the pure social context that marry into the whole marvelous idea of sharing.
That you’re more to someone than just a random passerby on a busy day. Or just a work acquaintance, who nods in an understanding over a common project at work. You’re someone, who’s worthy of being included in one of the most cherished human interactions, that’s the enjoyment of food.
You matter.
See, struggling with depression it’s not so clear-cut. Sometimes the sharing moment might feel more like a boulder on your shoulder rather than that intended lift-your-spirit, melt-on-your-tongue fluffy pick me up. Just as if you were becoming a liability to someone simply by accepting their kind gesture.
Speaking from experience, sometimes it feels like you’re not strong enough to make your own food, not to mention even asking for it. So when you’re met with a friendly smile, beaming at you from above of a paper bag full of softly red and ripe strawberries, your initial reaction might be to decline. Or to accept and bite into the fruit, only to taste the seeping bitterness of embarrassment.
I don’t know you, not really. But if you’re struggling with moments like that, or know someone who is, I just want to tell you, you’re not alone. It’s completely fine to take your time before you’re brave enough to let someone see you being vulnerable.
But that moment you’re ready… Boy, is it splendid.
You can always recognize you’re starting to do better, feel better and be better when you’re getting back to things that bring you joy. That you start allowing yourself to be happy again and feel that little spark light up in your heart again.
So as soon as I noticed the first signs of my recovery from depression, I started baking. Small things, at first, the ones I was confident in making. Then came the more difficult ones. With time I started teaching my flatmate how to roll out cookie dough and fold dumplings. And then, feeling confident enough, brought freshly glazed cinnamon rolls for Monday breakfast at the office.
If you enjoy cooking, you might enjoy spreading your love for food further. Feeding your friends and spoiling your loved ones. Spending hours slowly stirring a risotto, just to see that spark in someone’s face after a long day.
What I’m trying to say is, sharing is a marvelous thing. Whether you’re the one being offered food, or the one reaching out to other just to brighten their day, sharing is what makes us human.
But it’s fine if you need to take your time to truly enjoy either aspect of it.
Take your time, grow strong. And finally, dig in and smile.
You’re a stunning human being.
I’d love to share my favorite, easiest ever bread recipe with you. Because I can’t offer you a warm slice, with its wonderfully crunchy crust and heavenly soft crumb. Maybe spread a piece of butter on top, only to watch it quickly melt and bite into it even quicker.
It’s a gift I prepare for the people closest to my heart. Sometimes it’s just me because you do have to spoil and share with yourself as well.
Simple bread
Ingredients
2 cups bread flour
2/3 cup water
one pack (8g) of dried yeast
teaspoon of salt
How to?
Mix all ingredients together until a firm, soft mass forms. If needed, add more water or flour.
Let sit in a bowl until doubled in size.
Place the dough on a well-floured surface, knead for a bit more and fold into a loaf creating a ball or an oblong bread.
Cover with a cloth and let double again.
Score the bread if you want to.
Bake for 20 minutes in an oven preheated to 225 Celsius (437F), then reduce the heat to 200C (390F) and bake for another 20 minutes or until golden brown.
Let cool and share.
