Terroir

I cried.

I don’t watch television, but I got Netflix because I wanted to watch a particular documentary and then forgot about it. Kerching. Well played. The business model works. As these things go, then my kids found out you can stream it on the Xbox. So it’s on the big screen now.

I watched Chef’s Table. And I cried. I wrote “I believe the closer you stay to your origins, the more your terroir stands out” a few days ago. I want to rephrase that:

The better you understand your story of origin, the more your terroir stands out.

A most outstanding example of this, for me, is Dominique Crenn. Her menu is a poem. Each line is a dish. That tells a story. As she says: “Il y a toujours une histoire derrière chaque creation.” 

Hers is a tale of longing, missing, exploring and making place, for me. So I was deeply moved, as I often am when I see someone who doesn’t necessarily have an easy story transform it by and in to making beautiful things.

What’s with the bowl? The first snowdrops have showed up in the garden. The sun is shining, my wife is clearing up. The bowl is the bowl that all three of our children ate from as babies. From which they learnt to taste. Now, their appetite is too big for that bowl. So it’s fitting to honour it in a post about being moved, taste, tactile memories and stories of origin. And to let go of it, with a hint of melancholy.

What moves you?

Merci, Dominique. C’est vu et reconnu. 

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