The Ordinary Meal
Some of the meals I remember most aren't the elaborate ones. They're the simple ones.
A piece of good bread dipped in olive oil. Tomatoes with a little salt. Beans simmered with herbs. Vegetables cooked with whatever happened to be growing nearby. A bowl of pasta made from a handful of ingredients.
Nothing particularly impressive. And perhaps that's the point.
When we talk about the way people eat in the Blue Zones, it's easy to turn it into another conversation about nutrition. We begin separating foods into categories, counting things, measuring things, and trying to determine exactly what we're supposed to eat if we want to live longer.
But traditionally, people in these communities weren't eating according to a longevity plan. They were simply eating the food that belonged to their lives.
Much of it was inexpensive and uncomplicated. Beans, grains, vegetables, herbs, fruit, bread, olive oil, nuts. Meat often played a smaller role, while foods that could be grown, stored, gathered or prepared simply appeared again and again.
There is something wonderfully unremarkable about that. Not every meal needs to be an experience. Not every dinner needs a recipe you've never made before. And good food certainly doesn't need to be complicated.
In Sicily, some of the foods I find most appealing are also some of the simplest. A few ingredients can become an entire meal when those ingredients are good and someone knows what to do with them.
There is also a rhythm to eating this way. You cook what is available. You eat what is in season. You make enough to share. You use what you have. And tomorrow, you do it again.
Perhaps we've become so accustomed to having nearly anything available at any time that we've lost some appreciation for the ordinary meal—the meal that doesn't photograph beautifully, the one assembled from what was already in the kitchen, the recipe someone has made so many times they no longer need to look at the instructions, the food that simply feeds the people sitting at the table.
There is nourishment in that kind of simplicity—not only because of what is on the plate, but because it removes some of the constant decision-making and striving we've attached to food.
Sometimes dinner can simply be dinner. Good ingredients. Prepared simply. Shared when possible. And enjoyed without wondering whether it needs to be anything more.
Maybe the ordinary meal deserves a little more credit.
After all, the meals that shape a lifetime aren't usually the extraordinary ones. They're the ones we return to again and again.
With gratitude, Jenn
