Obvious
the REST of the week #84
It’s the rest of the week. What would you like to rest from right now?
How about resting from The Obvious?
Last week, somewhere between Point A and B, I happened to pass Goldberry Books, a thriving bookstore founded by a couple with four children who dared to open their doors in 2020.
The charm of the place was irresistible—from the shop’s name and logo, to the cozy green sofa and plants, to the dark wood shelving, brightened by a vast array of volumes, with step ladders to reach the ones up high.
I glanced at the time and decided I could afford a “quick peek”.
Fifteen minutes later I was still there, right inside the front door, reading a book on display that had all but called my name the moment I stepped inside:
The Secret of Cooking, by Bee Wilson.
It must have been the cover photo that drew me in (rustic kitchen shelving with an assortment of items that made me feel both nostalgic and at home) because I’m typically suspicious of anyone promising The Secret to anything.
But it was the writing, the sense of conversation, that kept me rooted to the spot. Bee spoke like a friend who had been following me around over the years and knew exactly what I wanted and needed to know.
And the secret?
“The secret of cooking is the person who cooks… the human standing at the stove who brings the words of a recipe to life (or who summons up a meal… drawing on memories so deep they seem to be instincts).” (page 1)
So the point of the book is not to share tricks, gadgets, or 5-star recipes, but to deal with the things that turn a pleasurable task into drudgery, and to make life in the kitchen easier. She says:
“What trips us up on the way to the kitchen is time, money, guilt, brain space, and other people, and yet, for some reason, most cookbooks don’t say anything about how to handle these vital ingredients.” (page 2)
I think it’s safe to say that those are the ingredients that trip us up in other areas of life as well. Accumulating information that doesn’t address the challenges unique to our (individual) reality creates more busyness, trying, and exhaustion.
One of the ways Bee makes things easier is to identify and resolve basic frustrations connected to the idea that there are clear, self-evident facts that everyone should know. On her website, she describes a 26-year-old man giving up on making a basic meal because he didn’t understand “recipe code”. He found terms like “medium-high heat” too vague to act on and struggled with unfamiliar words like “clove” (of garlic).
Bee herself recalls a time when she and her young son had mixed up a cake with eggs (shells and all—because the recipe didn’t say anything about cracking them). She continues with the assertion that:
“The problem with recipes is that nothing is obvious until you have done it at least once.”
What a relief. We don’t have to start from a place of feeling behind—like there are things we should know, but don’t.
We can rest from The Obvious— and experience the joy of discovery and learning.
May your rest be sweet,
Alicia