Bringing meaning to mealtime

It was a beautiful winters day today here in Melbourne and like I do on most second Sundays of every month I found myself at our local farmers market raiding every kiosk to stock pile our home with fresh seasonal produce. As I rounded out the market loop and bought the last of my supplies I caught myself in deep thought about my monthly ritual.

As we transition to an age where our lives are becoming inherently busier, and we immerse ourselves in a blindly fought rat race it’s easy to dismiss some of the simpler joys in life. So as the sun shone down at the market and I made my way back to the car I began thinking about the lost pleasure surrounding having a deep and meaningful connection with understanding where your food comes from and the way in which it can contribute to not only nourishing the body but the soul.

For most of us produce comes from either Coles or Woolworths and somewhere along the lines we lost an understanding of the great people behind the produce who grind everyday often long hours with little to no complaint, so we can enjoy what is hopefully a wonderful culinary experience. By knowing where our food comes from there’s instantly a greater appreciation and enjoyment that comes of it. Layer that with an understanding of how it’s grown, raised or curated it you begin to form a meaningful and fulfilling connection with your food.

The fulfillment comes from knowing that you’re supporting a community, you’re supporting the lively hoods of people who invest everything into the land in which their produce is raised. You’ll learn that the rib eye steak you just bought from the market typically takes 6 months longer to mature in the paddock than anything you find in a supermarket, why? Because it’s free of growth hormones, it’s not grain fed and above all the animal is loved, cared for and given the proper attention it’s required right up to the day it’s sent to the abattoir. And that beautiful marbling that runs through the steak, that marbling can only be a product of the cow having access to the freshest, lushest pastures.

You’ll build up rapport with the kiosk attendant, and you’ll learn a little more about the enjoyment and adversities they face everyday in pursuit of bringing a beautiful product to the market. They’ll tell you about the 3-hour trek they made to be at the market that morning, irrespective of the fact they had to get up at 4am to be there (you can bet your bottom dollar that they’ll greet you with a smile every single time). Their customer service will be first class and without fail every time you’ll walk away knowing you’ve made a genuine difference in someone’s life

So by making the time to visit your local farmers market, independent grocer or artisanal store you are making not only an investment in a high quality product but your giving greater meaning to your mealtime. There’s a certain therapy that comes from walking around a farmer’s market on a fresh winters morning. There’s a therapy that comes from building a meaningful relationship with the person who has grown your food. And there’s a therapy that comes from knowing how it was grown and what was endured to get the final product to that humble little kiosk.

So as I finish off this blog post I can’t wait to get stuck into cooking my steak, just as the farmer instructed me to. I’ll think of the sacrifice made for me to enjoy it, I’ll think about the care and love given to the cow, the early morning sacrifices and just what it means to support a local artisan in a climate where everything is becoming increasingly mass produced and increasingly meaningless.

I’ll sit down with my family and I’ll share the paddock to plate story of the food they are about to consume. It’ll ignite a discussion about a fairer food system, and it’ll spark thought around just how conventional food is produced. But most of all it’ll bring more meaning to our mealtime, we’ll not only nourish our bodies but our souls as well. And as for me personally I’ll selfishly enjoy the therapeutic opportunity that this whole experience has given me. My greater awareness of where my food came from will allow me to just for a second stop and block out all of life’s chaos and enjoy an insanely satisfying Sunday dinner.

Oh and did I mention it’ll taste bloody good? It’ll taste just like food was meant to (but that’s a blog for another day).

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