Around the Table
I arrived back in Sicily ten days ago and haven’t had a night alone since I arrived. I’ve been so warmly and generously welcomed by friends and at work that I haven’t really had a moment to rest and reflect. But it’s Monday now and I’m back at Case Vecchie, headquarters of Anna Tasca Lanza, the cooking school I’ve been part of for five years. I have a big room with a little round window. Light moves slowly across the wall. Soon it will be dark. Outside I can hear only the birds. In the courtyard Felice, the farm dog, is keeping watch.
I’ve never been here alone. The gardener left me grapes, a baby cantaloupe, eggs, and a cucumber, and told me to call him if I needed anything in the next twelve hours before he arrives tomorrow morning at 7:00 am. A not-so-young American woman alone in an old farmhouse is clearly a cause for concern to a Sicilian. For that I’m grateful.
If you aren’t familiar with Anna Tasca Lanza you should be (our Instagram is the best representation of the place but our website is pretty nice too). It’s a place meant to be shared. The fruit from the garden, the meals around the table, the sunset at the end of the day. All are best enjoyed in good company.
Each year we celebrate tomatoes at the end of August. It’s a real preservation process: sun-drying halved tomatoes. Peeling, cooking, and seasoning liters of pulp to lie out in the sun and turn into tomato paste (estratto). Cooking up a seasoned sauce ready to pour on pasta in the cold winter months. It’s a communal effort open to guests who wish to experience something truly unique.
It’s also a lot of hard work. Hot. Sweaty. Sticky. Tiring.
The school has been a bit on stand-by as the pandemic halted travel and our core staff dispersed. This was our inaugural week of having guests around the table. It was a perfect celebration: of the community food creates, of what the earth can provide, and of how we nourish ourselves. The whole time I felt infinitely grateful for everyone’s awe and curiosity for such a simple but beautiful process. I love food for this reason. It’s something tangible to which we can connect. It allows for a bit of mystery. (Here we are all, seeing, touching, tasting the same thing, yet often responding completely differently.) It also brings us together and makes us just a bit more curious, open, and aware.
As someone who appreciates alone time, I feel grateful when I can gather around people who share the same interests. Often, an appreciation for food is an easy way to build a common foundation. Or maybe it’s just hunger in general.
My first Belonging community coaching session wasn’t focused on food. Yet, I would say everyone showed up hungry, willing to explore how to best nourish themselves and those around them. It was a hunger for new knowledge, self-awareness, kindness, patience, and care. It was the hunger that comes when you know how to feed yourself functionally, but want to understand how to actually feel fulfilled and gain pleasure from the process. It’s a hunger that doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with food.
I had so many people ask how community coaching works when everyone is showing up with different “problems.” My reply would be: we’re all looking for the same solutions. I see so many parallels between those who come to Case Vecchie to have a culinary experience, and those who are willing and ready to commit to coaching. Anyone brave, curious, invested enough to do either, is also open enough to do hard work to achieve amazing results.
So here’s an open invitation to consider how you are feeding yourself. How are you nourishing your body, your community, our earth? What would you like to share with others? What would you like to explore around the table? What is your recipe for fulfillment?
Sending you sunshine, wishing you peaceful days and shared joy, and an abundant table.
From Sicily with a smile,
Henna