Food From a Hungry Ghost

This is all just a practice. A menu based on tonight’s dinner.

I’m always wishing I had the job of writing my own menus. Of presenting food I’ve made to droves of hungry gatherers. Of knowing every dimension of what satisfaction really means: how it reads, how it tastes, how it feels. So I’m writing this down in the hopes that seeing the menu on some future date will be enough remember how satisfying it was to write. How much joy it is to eat, to share, to gather, and to make.

There is hope wherever we have shared a meal. There is joy in slicing bread that was baked for us. There is serenity anywhere we smell leaves of basil we can’t see.