Plating: Procurement to Plate, the Joy of Partaking III

Why do we bother to imagine and intend how a plate presents?  It's the food that matters, right?  It's the  components  we bothered to prepare that get our saliva started, bile juices turning, that promote the digestive process.  What does it matter what it looks like as long as my body and a meal are in gear?

We humans discount the impact of subtle (and gross) impressions on our being.  Impressions are a food unto themselves.  They satiate a deeper hunger, a hunger that isn't always at the forefront of ourselves.  I saw this when I was a nurse in a hospital.  Patient's fragile states and reduced appetites were often impacted not by the food so much as the presentation.  I saw patients lose their appetite if the meal was huge (imposing, overwhelming).  Countering this, I saw patients gain an appetite when color, care and balanced portions were presented.  It's an energy thing, I think.  A patient's energy is so sensitized due to their illness; they pick up on, register (possibly assume?) the energy of the plater, the server, the preparer of the meal.  When it is mechanical, uncaring it's unappetizing.  Institutional food is not unappetizing solely because it's mass produced, but also because it's mass delivered in an often coarse way.  The automatic and unmindful way we partake of meals or food as a general population has become commonplace.  And so it is reflected in our institutions.  When we become more sensitized to the sacred event in a meal and all the parts thereof,  the event becomes something else.  We become something else other than food shoveling automatons.  A meal is (could be / should be) a sacred event; a nurturing of our being through deep nourishing impressions and thoughtful, balanced nutrients.

When imagining a meal, the long view of how it will be served and how it will end up on a plate is necessary.  Whereas three components on a plate are traditional, a fourth (or more) component makes it a party, a feast.  Keeping intact the original shape and size of at least one component supports the other components which have undergone chopping and/or shrinking (a transformation).  Alternately, if all the components are roughly the same size and whole, it is less interesting and appealing than when one or two have been altered in size and/or texture.

It might be helpful to look at the components of a meal as playing a role.  There is the "hero" on the plate and the supporting players.  The supporting players enhance, even elevate the hero.  They are sometimes the sublime foil for the hero or each other.  They do this through complimenting color, texture, size and shape and of course flavor.  An example of this would be the sweet/sour/pungent accompaniment to meat, such as a chutney or a sauce/gravy.  This is a complex foil.  Complex in color and flavor.  Often the simplicity of a steamed vegetable unadulterated, brings relief to one's gastronomy when the other offerings have more complexity.  

As far as plating goes, harmony and balance are achieved in a meal when proportions are considered in relation to the whole, when colors are complimentary, when texture and shape are varied.  This might seem like a lot to consider and possibly fussy.  Fuss happens when tension moves in.  In a relaxed state, the right everything is available.  There is no hyper considering, worrying, over-concern.  Hence, no fussiness.  Considering the relationship of the meal's components as full and dimensional as well as being sometimes complex, is not the same thing as being overdone or fussy.  Overdone can be loading a pancake with so much fruit, that it does not allow the complex carbohydrate to have a voice of its own.  Or drowning the hero (protein) in a sauce that overbears upon the prime attraction.  Too much.  Not enough thought, restraint, or care-- or perhaps a capitulation to impulsive desire.  The food's end result will always show us the truth of the matter.

There are always surprises in cooking.  The colors you thought you were going to get don't happen or aren't pleasing.  Something shrinks in cooking you didn't expect.  The relationship of the components isn't finding balance on the plate.  Wonderful quandaries!  It allows us to reconsider what is required.  It asks us to sensitize ourselves to what is and to move from there in an open inquiry.  Quite often, the simplest of things like a leaf of parsley, a sliver of orange rind pulls everything together.  What to use?  How to decide?  Relationship should be what dictates the creative impulse.  If parsley was used in one of the components-- to have parsley at its simplest, expressed on another component would speak volumes.  It would be sublimely related. We aren't bringing something entirely foreign, but something, somehow related.  It's an interesting study to soften and open to what is and what the plate asks for.

photo credit:  Lalu Danzker

Service is an interesting consideration.  Do we plate before reaching the table, attempting to  control the received impression?  Or does the meal call for a family-style delivery?  Platters and bowls of the meal's components on the table to individually serve from?  This latter prospect invites a sense of abundance and also a different type of interaction among the meal's participants (things have to be passed to others, conversation ensues).  Every meal calls for its own type of service.

This post and most of the posts I write on food (hopefully) invite you into a sensitization, a receptive mode:  this state is the human gift.  All people have this as a propensity, it is part of our human inheritance.  Receptivity to impressions of food is just one facet of the prism of our existence.  It's a good place to practice the process of opening, sensitizing and receiving impressions and will carry over to all relationships (inner and outer) as its value is recognized.

Preparation: Procurement to Plate, the Joy of Partaking II

photo credit:  Lalu Danzker

So, you have hauled home a treasure trove of good eats from vendors with whom you have hopefully had a jolly time.  You are excited.  You are hopeful.  You are vibrating from relationship; relationship with your curious self, exquisite gifts from nature and beast, and a nourishing engagement with those who love and appreciate what they grow.  This is a happiness.  Now, in this gratitude, we consider how best to prepare these gifts.

How do we do this?  What are the influences?

The conditions vary.  We might have shopped with an idea of a meal in mind, being directive in our approach.  We might have shopped wearing our instinct, our intuition, open to what is freshest at the market.  Regardless, we have these fine resources.  I take them out and admire them once again.  I resensitize myself to their vibration, their hardiness or delicacy, their beauty.  I consider their relationship and possible combinations to each other.  I notice their "voice".  The seasoning they call for, even the way they'd liked to be cut, chopped and treated.  In my regard for them, these gifts I and others are about to receive, there is a hope to honor them and those that provided them.  But this is not a heavy honor, if anything it is a playful one.  I want to find ease, and relaxation, again my curiosity and most of all I want to have some fun.  Braise, broil, steam, bake, poach, reduce, wine or no whine?  The possibilities.  How to know what actions and in actions are needed.

Because you shopped locally and picked things with glory and vibration-- you probably picked seasonal.  And the season calls you to respond.  Spring is light and lightly aromatic.  Summer calls for bare-naked naturalness, a coolness even rawness.  Fall is deep, earthy, heavier more sustaining.  Winter is warm, daringly aromatic, rooted.

Tamar Adler's An Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace has been a life changing book for me.  Life changing in the way I consider food and cooking.  One of her premises I work with all the time is the connection one meal has to the next.  The thick residue from the bottom of the pot of beans one cooked is the beginning of tomorrow's soup.  The "ends" of vegetables not used in preparation for dinner, are again, the beginning of tomorrow's soup stock.  Everything is connected, useful.  I've taken that one step further in asking myself, how are my components related?  How do I bring a thread of what is part of one component to the next, relate them, bring an overall harmony to the entirety of a meal.  The slice of lemon in water served at a meal might be echoed in a sliver or two of it's rind perched almost

imperceptibly on a piece of herb and wine-poached fish.  The basil in the herbed fish might be suggested in the spearmint (same family--Lamiaceae-- as basil) that is lightly confettied over the fresh fruit for dessert.  A lamb stew with fresh sprigs of rosemary has an almost subliminal echo in the water boiled for the accompanying rice or potatoes which you threw the stripped branches of rosemary into (to remove at the end of the cooking).  It's a hint, a light almost subconscious impression of the relationship from one component to the next. There is an endless way to carry the thread in a meal.  Staying close to curiosity and "the player" in oneself is helpful in determining the manifestation's gesture.

Another consideration is suggested by Ayurveda, an (eastern) Indian health approach.  Our tongue and palate is comprised of sensory taste receptors: sweet, salty, sour, savory (umami) and bitter.  Ayurveda cooking looks to satisfy all of these taste receptors in a meal.  So, when I cook, I try to consider that the entire meal has a balance of these five taste sensations.  Balance not being 20% of each flavor making 100% of the meal, but balance being in relation to the whole.  Hence, the development of one's culinary "palate" is inevitable.  This opens my field quite a bit.  Sweetness doesn't always have to be in dessert, but perhaps a condiment to go with the protein.  Perhaps dessert is the protein; a combination of nut-based crust and dairy filling, preceded by a thin soup and light salad; a sublimely hearty end of a meal .  Experimenting with turning the predictable on its head is, dare I say, a heady notion.

Culinary pleasure and digestion begins in our senses, especially the visual.  Hence, why care in presentation is necessary.  The gustatory sense is stopped if food is presented wrapped in greasy paper or unspecific boxes.  Considerations with the visual in mind are color, shape, size and texture.  In the plant world there are arguably 7 colors as far as palette goes (that arbitrary number is challenged as there are at least 5 variations of green alone in the edible plant world).  I try to have at least 5 colors in a meal, (for nutritional composition and visual compliment) but I always aim for 7.  I consider the "heart" of my meal and move from there.

The heart is often the protein.  My rebel self often balks at this seeming undeniable culinary truth.  I play with this notion.  And sometimes I lose.  But at least I play and I always learn.  I resist the cultural habit that meat be at every meal, be at one meal a day, one meal a week (depending on your cultural influences).  I play with the notion that meat can be treated more like a condiment, an aside, a small potent presence to the mighty diverse selection of the incredible vegetable or homey complex carb.  Sometimes it works just so and other times the heart of a meal just can't be the vegetable combination you've put together.  It's live and learn.  A very complex and hearty slaw with roasted nuts or seeds can be very central and sustaining, especially if a chewy/crusty bread and cheese accompany.  Try and succeed, try and fail, it's all great because your interest, intention and attention are active.  There are no bad meals if that is engaged during the preparation.

photo credit: Lalu Danzker

The consideration of shape, size and texture is important, but often enough not considered.  I was looking forward to trying Ethiopian food out on the town with some friends, but found that each of us were served varying flavored legume purees.  The flavors couldn't trump the solitary texture, and the bread served, although somewhat interesting (made from an ancient African grain) was not in good relationship to the pureed food, being kind of stretchy and gray.  Purees can be used to wonderful effect; they can compliment in color and texture. A light green pea puree under a delicate white fish has contrasting textures and complimentary colors.  A white parsnip puree or bright orange carrot puree is a delightful foil for a rich, darkly glazed beef or lamb.  To have something straightforward and simple accompanied by something complex in flavor is a marriage of balance.  A group of minimally touched green beans is a whole component that supports a garlic/potato mash and multi-colored/complicated stew.  Everything about it grounds the meal:  the deep green color, its untouched wholeness, its promise of lightness and simplicity, even its possible reference to a season just ended or about to begin.  It might not be the "hero" on the plate, but it makes the hero look good by its otherness.

Authentic Movement: Flying Solo

"When the movement was simple and inevitable, not to be changed no matter how limited or partial, it became what I called 'authentic' – it could be recognized as genuine, belonging to that person." 

-- Mary Whitehouse

Authentic Movement (AM) is a practice that has been used for over half a century to express the creative impulse, unwind the subliminal, subconscious material below ones external layers, and to inform.  AM as a practice is valuable because it is seated in sincerity.  This is possible because one has taken the risk of sensitizing and grounding the body enough for the (often hidden) authentic to surface. One's being senses an openness, a more whole and deeper listening quality; Self-trust ensues. These conditions allow for sincerity, authenticity to make its way to the surface of ourselves, a willingness to be exposed.

"The movement becomes 'authentic' when the individual is able to allow their intuitive impulses to freely express themselves without intellectual directive, as opposed to movement initiated by conscious decision making – a distinction which may appear clear, but practically a challenge. Individuals simply pay attention to what they feel at a sensory level, since "the core of the movement experience is the sensation of moving and being moved."*

With over twenty-five years of doing the practice, at present, there are two aspects of AM that are deeply intriguing to me.  1: This idea of using the form in relation to an intention, allowing the organism to be "informed" by a greater, more sensitized intelligence (a distinct probability in the AM form), and 2: the possibility of doing AM solo.

"In the Authentic Movement aspect of Whitehouse's approach, the moving participants (movers) are passively observed by a witness, who 'contains' the experience of the mover by witnessing their movements without judgement, projection or interpretation. In this way the witness is also an active participant, as witnessing is a practice in observing one's own sensations and impulses while observing the mover's. It's important to note that Whitehouse created many individual, dyadic and group experiences to create a context for moving from inner sensation and whole-body experience." *

In relation to #1 above, traditionally AM is not practiced with an intention looking for information or answers.  An intention in some ways is counter to the idea of being open to what is and most probably prone to "intellectual directive."  Traditionally or not, intention or not, material surfaces during an AM session which often clarifies.  When one is "ripe", internally holding something, these are "low hanging fruit" conditions; AM often brings it to the surface for plucking, like it or not.  I have explored using the form in relation to unfinished dreams in this way, very successfully.

In relation to #2, the traditional form of AM always includes the basic role of witness and mover.  But as Whitehead says in the above quotes,  it is truly a dual action.  In the AM process, mover becomes witness and witness becomes her own mover (through her sensations of what is seen, energetically received and her own impulses).  If one is practiced at holding this dual space for oneself and another, has routinely a strong inner witness while moving, then experiencing the form solo might be very rich.

So, with the threat of breaking the rules of this beloved form, I set out to make an experiment.  I have an intention to understand something I've been ruminating about as of late and want to use AM to shed some light.  At the moment, I don't have the benefit of others to support me as witnesses.  I wish to try this premise of setting an intention and buoying up my own inner witness to do the holding-the-container job, simultaneously.

My impromptu moving space is private; an unused tennis court in the middle of the woods.  With a tip of my hat to the external witness role, I place my water bottle on a bench as a witness figurehead and find my place in the space in relation to it.  What ensues is a sublime experience of moving in and out, an experience of levels going deeper and moving closer to the surface and then back again. Left hand perpendicular to the ground moves in circles, smoothing the way.  Right hand/arm gently opening, closing, a love energy moving toward my heart, a gathering.  I experience an "intellectual directive" in myself.  Move forward!  Move forward!  Why are you only going side to side?! Move forward! or "Ugh oh. I'm moving in circles, oh dear, please don't let me move in circles!"  She walks with the one that isn't interested in directive, but needing to respond from a deeper impulse. I will move as I move.  Everything in its own time. There is a parlay, an exchange, a finding one's place in that. An acknowledged relationship between them exists.  Even the external environment becomes part of the process, not to be excluded nor seen as a happenstance, but an integral part of the whole. Rotating my torso, my eye catches a cloud of mosquitoes ready to land on me.  I start swatting at them and become momentarily disengaged from my depth.  Yes! Distractions are forever at the ready! I laugh.  Off balance, awkward, ungainly movements... all the tripping that is necessary before a transformation.

Everyone that comes to Authentic Movement should have that incredible experience of being held, seen, and witnessed by others.  There is nothing like it.  It makes possible entry into deep (dark) places.  It makes it safe for aspects of the self, often hidden and buried, to resurface and become visible. It builds and supports ones own inner witness.  But with enough practice, is it possible to do both simultaneously, go solo?

This experience on the tennis court was not a "traditional" experience of AM.  But for the place I am in my life, in my practice, this was exactly right.  It is required of me, where I sit in myself at this moment in time, to experience the dualities and how they sing and move together, and even how they transform each other or at least the consciousness around them.  I need the formerly invisible to walk with that intellectual directive, neither one to take charge, but live in a proximity that allows and encourages the other to exist.  

The truth is, I'm not young (relatively).  I'm not a newbie.  I am seasoned.  I am mature.  Another possibility for use of the form is necessary at this time.

The "Care" Effect

I have spent a considerable amount of my nursing career studying, accumulating information, practicing and  experiencing healing philosophy and giving statistical based lectures about the power and efficacy of alternative and complimentary medicine.  Research and statistics backed me up.  One such statistic  was: $34 billion dollars is spent annually out of pocket on treatments and non conventional approaches.  As I espoused these statistics to interested health professionals (I thought they were interested-- otherwise why would they take the trouble to come and hear a talk on this?) I could see these facts, wash over their high-browed craniums like an air current over the body of a soaring plane.  Very seldom did I see little pocket of air form within them expand as the information was delivered. Which made me think, their interest wasn't so much in these soft medicine facts and treatments as much as the money that wasn't reaching their pockets.  Then I thought I wasn't presenting well, it was too much "other" information, which although was factually undeniable, was unfamiliar.  They couldn't relate, even though I took great pains to give them statistics and research which were immediately relateable (dollar and cents).  As medical professionals, we are told it's all about evidence-base.  But obviously not, as they weren't assimilating it.  Finally, I decided the stars were not aligned, corporate medicine wasn't ready to take the leap to move toward including these practices, despite the facts.

To be fair, this information on alternative and complimentary medicine has been heard, but in corporate medicine terms.  Integrative medicine centers, associated with major medical institutions, have been formed, in fact it's a big trend at the moment. These centers obviously need financing, and they often get this through donors with deep pockets.  Their continued growth and success is also obviously necessary, so revenue generation is required.  They figured out how to get insurance to pay for treatments (ie: MD provided acupuncture, MD provided health coaching, packaged lifestyle behavior modification classes as prescription). Ok. So, we're moving along, right?

The issue I take in the current approach of integrating conventional with alternative medicine is that it is construed from the old model of practicing medicine.  It's based on Descartes's original and ever present philosophy that we can be deduced down to separable parts and the ill parts can be managed as they need to be, not in relation to the entire person.  This isn't Whole thinking, an approach based on Oneness.  Complimentary, alternative, integrative medicine becomes a "specialty" and is worked into an outdated paradigm that hasn't been effective for almost forever, has always been hugely expensive and ultimately becomes a tepid healing (because it is not based on relationship).

In his article, Forget the Placebo Effect: It's the 'Care Effect' That Matters   Nathanael Johnson makes a case for a soft medicine approach, stating research that shows kindness and a deeper listening skill used by practitioners is actually extremely effective in promoting best outcomes.  What Descartes discounted was the power of trust and relationship in healing.  He was all about promoting curing and hard facts of using a fully scientific approach (in his time, excluding church/religion/spirituality as a useful influence).  And in 15-20% of illness, he's spot on.  If you have a broken leg, saying prayers over it probably won't fix it, a good surgeon would be useful.  However, the rate of healing of this broken leg may vary depending on soft medicine interventions.  Using the science knowledge of positive attitude, mobilizing the parasympathetic nervous system to off-set the sympathetic in the crisis of the trauma gets our blood cells working optimally, reduces "emergency" hormones coursing through the body (an obstacle to healing) and makes us generally feel a lot better than taking pills dealing with anxiety and even pain.  Hippocrates had a more whole healing perspective, an example of a well rounded physician.  Probably Descartes was alive at a time of great political upheaval and was able to establish the model we practice today. Today, we train a lot of doctors in this country and extremely few of them become physicians (whole healers).

In 80-85% of all illness (chronic in nature) a non-conventional approach is mandatory for there to be a healing.  Because medicine has become so militarized and corporate, we are embedded in systems and bureaucracy that aren't meant to budge easily.  There is little flexibility, not much innovation (outside of technology) in approaching what has become the business of health.  The hierarchy is ever present:  hard science is best, soft medicine is tolerated and not really seen as an ever important adjunct to the full and effective treatment of human beings. Respect for knowledge is assumed.  Respect for relationship is (generally) not important.  It is this that is at the base of all healing, it is this that must be cultivated in medicine today.  Of course knowledge and skill are vital.  But without an empathic presence, a fuller present intelligence, a greater skill at listening, knowledge and talent are marginal in the forum of healing.  These skills make our healers (doctors, nurses, therapists) whole in service to others and (great empathy and deep listening) is also in its nature, a reciprocal action, a healing of oneself.

"The 'care effect'—the idea that the opportunity for patients to feel heard and cared for can improve their health. Scientific or no, alternative practitioners tend to express empathy, to allow for unhurried silences, and to ask what meaning patients make of their pain. Kaptchuk's study was a breakthrough:  It showed that randomized, controlled trials could measure the effect of caring. But there was already abundant evidence from nursing science to suggest a healing power in the interaction between practitioner and patient."*

Can this "care effect" proliferate in the old paradigm?  The old paradigm being a corporate compliance-based entity with iron-clad legal implications at every turn?  Nurses, as indicated in the quote above have seen and implemented this "care effect" through the ages but in the old paradigm model, have continually seen it tie their hands as restrictions and standard measurements of care become narrower and more prevalent.  They are expected to ever increase their "caring" while also being required to take on more and more responsibilities (same for MDs as well).  It is unrealistic.  It is not looking at either the whole nurse/doctor or the whole patient and probably the whole system.  Caring becomes a commodity in an uncaring, sometimes hostile environment.  This is not an environment or system that can sustain true empathy nor deep listening.  This is not a paradigm that can provide truly integrative services. This paradigm is broken.

Caring and empathy is a deep part of our humanity.  When it begins to be measured in "accountability" terms like a bookkeeper's numbers, we begin to have a problem that soon turns to dysfunction.  Healing is an often mysterious, varied and flexible process that was never meant for Descartes's small pigeon-hole formula.  We have to take a risk that a new paradigm can sustain an excellence and affordability in healthcare.  We have to have a more empathetic and fluid paradigm to work from.  That paradigm is currently unknown, which is a scary prospect for the millions of people who depend upon a working healthcare model.  But otherwise, we are putting a square peg in a round hole and trying to make it fit.  The body itself might have lessons for us to glean in how to develop a new paradigm.  The fact that the Central Nervous System has these different and varied aspects (sympathetic and parasympathetic) that work together to help us to be whole, is possibly something akin to developing a paradigm that can do the same for our healthcare delivery.  Something to ponder.

*Forget the Placebo Effect: It's the 'Care Effect' That Matters | Wired ...