There’s something about washing fresh fruits and vegetables. Preparing food in the afternoon, glass of wine in tow, music subtle in the background; there, and not there, all at the same time. I truly believe that the heart of any place is the kitchen. It’s where life happens.
Slow dancing on Saturday mornings, Sunday coffee and pancakes…navigating around each other’s attitudes while preparing lunch; pressing up against each other – the sink digging into your back as the water boils over.
I’m sure everyone has their memorable meals.
So many hopes and dreams. The plans we make. Our life unfolds preparing magic beans and sandcastle cakes. A meeting place where strangers become friends and friends turn to family. I can think of few things more intimate than preparing a meal for the people you care most about; the love and attention that are put into the nourishment of their soul. Yes indeed, there’s something to be said for those you choose to break bread with…and those you don’t.