So Many, 'Lost in Translation'

The meal is brought to the table. We regale in its sensory feast. Twenty minutes later, the food has been devoured and hunger has left us, temporarily. Such moments are a regular part of daily life. Unless we are the cook, much of what we have just eaten becomes 'lost in translation'.

The other day, I thought of all the cooks who toil in the kitchen, day after day, cooking healthy and lengthy meals, for family and friends. What takes mere minutes to eat: an egg salad or tuna sandwich on sourdough, a bowl of homemade soup, maybe a salad, with fruit compote, tiramisu or hot apple pie, may have taken hours to create only to be gulped down and forgotten. Sometimes, the time taken to make a multi course dinner for friends and family could equal the time spent painting a room, refinishing an antique, or landscaping the yard. Here, the 'labour' is a beautiful transformation that is appreciated, timelessly.

We quickly forget the intensive labour involved in a meal, unless, of course, we are the orchestrators of its lengthy creation. Last week, I spent countless hours, making cabbage rolls. (At times, it seemed like days). Ha. Ha. The rice had been cooked the previous day but not without addition of sauteed 'diced' celery, onions and 'minced' garlic. Diced mushrooms were included, a new twist to this family favourite. In the simmering water, the next morning, I began the task of separating, gingerly, the cabbage leaves from the core of this maligned vegetable called cabbage. (A paring knife was used to make cuts on three sides of the core while tongs removed a leaf from each layer of the cabbage, one by one). A carving fork held the cabbage in place while I deftly snipped here and there, loosening the leaves continuously until most had been separated. Into a bowl went the separated leaves for the task of making the coveted 'holubtsi'.

The thickened 'vein' of each cabbage leaf was removed before filling the leaf with the delicious rice mixture made the previous day. (These thickened ridges of the cabbage leaf are generally left inside the casserole dish to cook beneath the rolls as they protect them from drying out or being burnt on the corners, inside the ceramic casserole dish). (Ceramic rather than metal offers a deeper, more moist heat penetration making the cabbage rolls more tender and more flavourful, in shorter time.) As each layer of cabbage rolls was completed, tomato juice was poured over the top with more salt and pepper added for flavour, in a slow oven of 330, over 2-3 hours. (Diced tomatoes, or sauce is no longer used. Simplify, Simplify). Hours of production disappears, 'lost in translation', when family devours these delicious handmade rolls over the course of three meals. Oh. My. If I wanted well made healthy, delicious cabbage rolls someone had to make them. That person was me, if certain standards were to be met. Food does not create it itself.

As meals come and go, the greatest 'loss' of labour occurs over the holidays where women, traditionally, are the ones stuck in the kitchen even on the 'day'. Course after course appears to the ahs and cheers of the seated patrons. Some of the foods have been made the day before to be reheated in the oven, later the next day. Desserts are generally made ahead of time, frozen till they can be baked or assembled into their expected 'costumes', prior to the meal. The hours spent organizing the celebratory dietary event can be endless. (A book shelf could have been made in the time taken to create another meal masterpiece.) The cost of dining out (over 50% is labour ) might invariably equal the cost a week's worth of groceries and the food might not have been made with the exact standard of care. There is no escape from meal time drudgery.

We admire a new renovation or addition, a recently purchased piece of furniture, a new area rug. We revel in their beauty, time after time. Whether in our home or in the home of another, 'hand made' objects are on display, appreciated, over and over again, their timeless quality and beauty; understood. In the case of a meal, whether in the context of a celebration, a holiday or everyday lunch or dinner, the labour required bears a similar time element for its completion to those 'inedible' objects of our desire. But accolades are few and far between, remembered in a general context, only, over time.

Labour is real in whatever we 'do'. For those of us involved in the daily, mundane acts of food preparation and clean up, it is incumbent upon the rest of us to say, “What a great meal” punctuated with genuine enthusiasm at the beginning of each course. Even the simple words of fermentation, curing, pickling and sourdough, can denote hours, days, weeks, months or sometimes years of 'preparation' and 'labour' to bring these food masterpieces to their standout performances. Their costs reflect that dynamic. Foods such as yogurt, sauerkraut, cheese, artisan breads, wine and meats come to mind.

Without the critical attention paid to the complex, but more often, monotonous rituals of food preparation, health can be affected. Let us appreciate, if not revere, those who work tirelessly, on our health behalf, to put meals on the table and health in our lives. Appreciate those meals, 'lost in translation'. 'Take-in' never tasted so good but 'cost' so little!