My Right Hand Needs a Holiday

It's nearly exam week - the biggest exams of the year, where we're tested on the whole year of stuff. I better be writing more notes than what I will be writing in the exam, or my hand will die...

Time of high stress is when you mostly want to go on holidays, so in the time that isn't really spare but I procrastinate in anyway, I've been doing a bit of reading and thinking about health. Ok, obviously, but more so in the aspect that maybe diet isn't the most important aspect as to how you develop, age and die. I especially loved the NY Times 'The Island where People Forget to Die'. Google it if you want. I'm going to Ikaria one day.

I was watching some sbs show while packing up slices of banana bread to sell and a cook was up in some mountains in a traditional tribe area in Thailand and made some meat thing that was put in a bamboo tube, topped with a banana leaf, and put in a fire to cook. And as I watched him lovingly and rustically creating this age old dish, I realised that the reason why we love recipes is the fact that they're passed down through generations, like a story. And it has a story of instruction to keep you alive, but there's a side that comes from that tribe, or from that family, or from the heart of the one showing you how to make it.

Recipes aren't instructions for making something to keep you alive.

Recipes are special stories that provide you with love in your heart to make you thrive, physically (the food) and emotionally (the love).