The first strawberries of the season

I spent last weekend surrounded by rain-soaked vineyards in Napa, warmed by meals prepared in the localvore tradition that us Californians love. That is to say, simple, rustic, and dictated by market-fresh produce, paired with wines that left a lasting impression on both my tongue and psyche.

This all sounds silly if you view food in unromantic terms. Certainly food is fuel; I’m of the strong belief that what we put into our bodies is wildly important, as is knowing its provenance—the who, what, where, and how of its growth and delivery. Food also happens to be one of the few things which assaults multiple senses at once. I recall pink, falling-off-the-bone pieces of porky flesh nestled against a whipped cloud of potatoes at one meal; the deep, deep burgundy of an as-of-yet unlabeled wine spoke to its peppery richness before I took the first sip at Friday supper; caramelized baby root vegetables added bursts of orange and purple to my pasta dish at Bottega. Food stimulates; it beckons; it conjures meaningful memories; it taps into our hedonistic tendencies. For many women (and men, for that matter), myself included, food is/has been a source of great fear and anxiety at times. I know all too well what it is like to suffer an embattled relationship with food, a dynamic that persists but that I fight at every turn to overcome.

Dining among fellow “foodies” these anxieties fell away, replaced by slow and savory meals and conversations spoken in high-pitched Napa-ese. We discussed the merits of using Anjou versus Bartlett pears for fruit tarts, raved about the punch of a long-simmering duck ragu drizzled over pan-fried gnocchi, and drank to a comfortable buzz, not wretched intoxication.

I write about my Napa experience in light of two articles I recently read, one an essay written by model-turned-cookbook author Sophie Dahl in Vogue, the other a brief overview of Tamasin Day-Lewis’ Supper for a Song in ELLE. Dahl, once fetishized for being the “curvy girl” during her modeling days, much like Lara Stone (at a shocking size 4-6) is today, writes about being a fleshy deviant on and off the runway, and how an illness later robbed her of pounds but earned her the envy of women “tight-lipped in the face of a chocolate brownie.” Her new cookbook, Miss Dahl’s Voluptuous Delights, is a celebration of seasonal ingredients and the communion of feasting. Her essay was a profound personal reminder that, yes, food is fuel, but it is also a life source in the esoteric, spiritual sense.

The article about Day-Lewis (sister of Daniel, but a celebrity in her own right) spoke about her no-nonsense philosophy to cooking and eating: use quality, ethically-sourced ingredients and preparing delicious meals need not be cumbersome. Her Spanish Chicken with Saffron and Almond Sauce, pictured simmering in a gorgeous yellow stew, is a recipe I vow to try soon.

Is it a coincidence that these women, who, along with fridge-picking Nigella Lawson comprise a trinity of respected female food personalities, are British? In America we herald Giada De Laurentiis (who I spotted at Lou on Vine last week, apparently enjoying the pork candy) and—gulp—Rachael Ray as our culinary mavens. While I adore Giada, there is something unique about the sophistication, sexiness, and vivaciousness with which these British women celebrate food. Here in the U.S., we do it quick and so often get it wrong. Semi-Homemade my ass.

Yet, I understand the sad reality that eating the Alice Waters way is a financial impossibility for many families, not to mention a matter of access. This is why food politics matters: health is a human right, and food is a core component of this complicated issue.

As I explore what it means to properly nourish myself, I hope to take a page from the Sophies and Tamasins of the world. There is no pleasure like that of good food shared among good friends, nothing more sensual than that of seeing a woman who enjoys eating. Decadence and health are not mutually exclusive, though the diet industry makes money off of this schism.

Instead, I propose that we all be active, be mindful, and always relish the sacred act that is eating. Artisanal cheese affords great joy, I’m learning.

Related Links:

Food for Thought, Q&A with Sophie Dahl, Vogue.com

Chocolate Brownies à la Tamasin Day-Lewis (Video)

A cloudy view from Silverado Vineyards

Market fresh asparagus

Perfect pear crisp