I wanted to start my blog off with this poem by Zen Teacher Edward Espe Brown from his beautiful book Tassajara Cookbook. It speaks to me of the connectedness and fullness of life inside and outside each and every food that is provided for us to enjoy at our tables. Reminding me, time and time again, to be grateful for it all.
Who Knows What Thus Comes?
Picking up an onion,
What is it held in hand?
How many dusty miles
and blazing asphalt truckstops,
hidden in darkness, locked in steel?
How many cups of coffee and tired-eyed
waitresses greeted the driver?
How many minutes of country music
and rambling thoughts helped onion here?
How many days at home, in ground,
intimately connected, embedded,
nestled unseen, rapt in absorption,
knowing just what to do
with earth and water, sun and wind,
to make them onion.
That everything thus comes
at once as onion, what
treasure is this dug up?
Who knows what hand holds?