Keeping to the plan, I should be reflecting on kitchen moments, they are many, many memory moments in countless kitchens. From the gathering around Formica sides of the uni days and before, to more recent get-togethers at pine tables in the posh end of town as the song goes you’ll always “find me in the kitchen at parties”.
We call it the heart of the home, for it is the place where we prepare the feasts for the family, food to share with friends. Breaking bread, communing in the simplest of forms it starts on the sides of the kitchen so there is no surprise that in a party you feel the heart beat of the home while you chat, you giggle, the cool kids come together in kitchens.
There are the standers, those who seem to hover and chat, leaning and laughing as the time passes. Chair surfers who cruise from one conversation to the next. Nibblers listening to the going’s on around them whilst double-dipping bread sticks in the humus. At the centre of proceedings the host, topping up glasses checking that the guests in their home is more than ok. Roles swap, drinks are drunk as time passes we move on but with us we take memories of the nights we share, those kitchen moments.
To open your house, to prepare food in your kitchen, to share at your table is a gift we should be eternally grateful for. To provide sustenance, feeds not only the stomach but the need for us to be we are all that is said human beings not human doings. A Sunday lunch cooked by or for a friend might remind you of the family meals share in childhood. Stirring the cooking pot, stirring up shared moments.
I am sorry for tonight’s post is short, rushed and will have to be revisited. Today I am thankful for the kitchen moments, for the dishes that I cooked for others and the plates that have been passed to me, the glasses raised, laughs shared and the songs that have been badly sung!