finding comfort in feeding
a year on...
In such discordant times, I have found comfort and strength in feeding, a vocation that provides physical and mental wellbeing to both the giver and receiver of nourishment, in equal measures.
Food is a requirement for nutritional support and is man’s basic need. Feeding is a value that is shared amongst so many cultures, and is a common characteristic of Jewish woman, assumed in life’s joyous, mournful and testing times. Often incited by a personal ineptitude and to verify one’s own sense of worth in an intensifying situation, the need to rally through food overwhelms, and may offer some comfort in what is considered a sacred act.
A year on, and yet again I find myself pondering on the feeling of impotence and isolation in this inextricable conflict, and my need to feed is the fuel to my own wellbeing, as much as it is to those who it serves.
Feeding is consuming me in these tense days, giving me some structure and a touch of positivity to the otherwise bleak days of sirens and safe rooms. It is not only in the fulfilling act of physically cooking and serving food that I have re-engaged with, but also through immersing myself daily in writing, and ploughing on with the manuscript for my next book, ‘Feeding Us… food of memories’, shaped by the events of 07.10.23 and every woman’s need to feed their loved ones.
I have recently returned to volunteering, and feeding our soldiers on route to the northern border. This time, I am in a tent stationed by the side of the road, a stone’s throw away from Kibbutz Amiad, where 40 years ago, I first tasted the fresh flavours of the Israeli cuisine, defined by the diversity and the culinary influences from the Ashkenazim of Eastern Europe, Sephardim from the Iberian Peninsular and North Africa and the Mizrachim of the Middle East, and the place where I began to understand the deep rooted culture of feeding.
The tent, which was started up a year ago by a band of volunteers has opened at 08.00 every day, except for Fridays, Saturdays and religious festivals, and closed at 20.00, freely feeding and refreshing every soldier who stops by for breakfast, lunch, tea or dinner. On my first shift last week, the breakfast stint from 08.00 - 11.00, I was given the task of making the ‘havitot’ (omelettes) to go in the rolls, with carte blanche to flavour them with whatever I fancied from the store cupboard and boxes of donated ingredients dropped off each day. I cracked and beat dozens and dozens of eggs, seasoned each batch with salt and sweet paprika, and cooked one omelette after another for over 2 hours, adding softened leeks, raw mushrooms and chopped parsley that I found needing to be used up.
I returned this morning for my second shift, and resumed the role of ‘the omelette lady’ for the whole three hours, cracking, beating, seasoning countless eggs before cooking and serving pieces of golden omelette to the queue of soldiers waiting patiently for their breakfast. Devoured in seconds, I relished the joy of feeding…
Continually humbled by the thanks and appreciation we receive, I take pleasure in the physical nourishment it gives to each soldier and the spiritual nourishment it gives me. I am pleased to be doing something worthwhile in this protracted conflict, and at the same time giving time to my book which is gaining momentum as I furiously write and discover traditional dishes from the communities of the Jewish Diaspora amidst deep memories of long-established culinary practises from our mothers and grandmothers, and always flavoured with plenty of love.
I have given myself a deadline to finish Feeding Us, which I will share with you all soon, together with my plans for its publication.
May the coming year bring hope, light, peace and nourishment to us all…