A spiritual and intellectual approach to eating has been a focus as of late. This approach is by no means a new phase but rather a zooming-in by way of reduction being dramatically intensified — more singularity per dish, as opposed to a variety of up to five items on a plate, and items being prepared with less spices and added ingredients.
Parallel to this concept, the memories of what I loved out of the kitchen of my parents with their respective cultures prevail, as I often try to relive the gustatory childhood experiences, sometimes consciously, other times without intention or structure.
These chickpeas represent three experimental wishes: the childhood love in food (the same calling for the celery contrast), a personal diversity acquired by the luxury of international and cultural influences, and the alchemical inclinations which make me think incessantly about the properties of the chickpea which contribute to the taste of surrogate coffee.
That complexity is in the mind, and it is clearly manifested in the palate, and in the joy of eating, simply because the attention to food is based on it being a wonder of life, rather than a mere need for the subsiding of hunger.
Good food, truly good food is a prayer, not a dependent prayer, not an ask, not a petition, not a plea, not a talk to another — neither to a higher, nor eternal being. Good food is a prayer embodied in a smile to oneself, at once manifestation and gratitude in being.