The Little Things
After a Christmas Eve woodfired tapas meal around the fire pit with family, we spent this Christmas tide at home, quietly. Our children and families live ten hours to the East and twenty hours to the West of us. We’ve often traveled to see them but this was the year of staying put and taking some downtime. But as the year ended, our schedule started to fill in with late Christmas gatherings and visitors and our traditional New Year’s Eve cheese fondue. We cleaned, we organized, I baked and cooked, we did laundry. I made lists. We went shopping and ran errands. And then we were ready.
I inherited from my mother, maybe also from my grandmother, the love of making and serving food. When I know people are coming for a meal, I truly enjoy planning the food, preparing it and seeing it through to its final moment on the plate. In my mind, it is quite similar to a theater production, with acts and props and an intermission. Many things have to happen backstage before the spectators can experience the final creation. With food, though, there’s only one show. Once it’s eaten, it’s over!
I learned through osmosis as I watched and helped my mother with food preparation that the little things matter. Things that others might not even notice make a difference in how the food looks and tastes. Maybe it’s the fact that, as I prepare the food, there is an intentionality to the smallest details. So, yes, the bowl of mashed potatoes gets its sprinkle of fresh, chopped parsley before it goes out to the table. Fresh bay leaves, clementines and sugared cranberries line the plate of ham loaf. Candles and greens serve as centerpieces.
What I do as I cook and bake and what I think about it all gets wrapped up in the final outcome. My intentionality with the food preparation and how I set the tone at the table are passed on to those partaking of it. Each little gesture and detail contributes to an overall experience. And, mostly, it’s about love and community and taking the time.
As a new year starts, I want to be intentional with more than just food. I want to take time to do the little things that matter. I want to be able to see the trees that make up the forest. My father taught me as well to pay attention to the “smallest of these”, which is why for many years at my bakery, I cleaned the bathrooms, rather than let my staff clean them. Something about being on my knees, cleaning a toilet, reminds me not to take life for granted. I’ve learned that focusing on the small can lead to big things. Here’s to a new year of intention!