Redefining Fullness
TW: allusions to disordered eating
Food For Thought
I wonder when I began to tell the difference between fullness and emptiness. When it became binary. Either, or. When did I learn to dislike and crave both feelings at the same time?
“I’m full” is a familiar refrain for me. When in company, it’s uttered after every meal. Almost like a tick. Or a catchphrase. Mostly I mean it. Other times, it’s just an auto-response.
Sometimes full means satisfaction. The first bite of a soup dumpling. A perfect ragu. A plate full of veggies after a week of their absence. Crab beignets. A bowl of sticky white rice. But for me, fullness has also come to mean discomfort. As if it’s pushing at the edges of my skin. Impossible to sit with. Until I just – do.
Over the last few months, I’ve been wildly fascinated by how food content has grown on platforms like Instagram and TikTok. The soothing ASMR of a rolling boil, the crack of an egg, the snap of a Tupperware or the sharp swipe of a knife. These are all satisfying sounds. Much like the process. We (I?) obsess over what Emily Mariko is eating because she herself appears so satisfied by what she’s consuming. The full-faced smile at the end of each video.
Although perhaps there’s something more sinister, too. Observing a conventionally attractive white woman preparing her meals – which aren’t necessarily overtly healthy, to both our chagrin and comfort – shopping for groceries, cleaning her house, speaks to our obsession with the ordinary. But only if it meets a certain aesthetic standard. It’s like watching the tension between fullness and emptiness. The hollowness of observation. The fullness of our obsession. A dichotomy of reactions –aspirational gushing, genuine delight and cynical take-downs.
I was reminded of fullness when reading about the South Korean trend of ‘meokbang 먹방'‘ – a portmanteau of the words eating and broadcasting. Many people partake, but it feels particularly telling that young, pretty girls stuffing their faces are the most appealing. It’s empty entertainment. Escapism from reality. The irony that it is perhaps a societal loneliness which fuels this over-consumption is not lost on me.
What I’m learning to do is redefine my fullness. Of my body. Of my worth. Of my time. Reminding myself that fullness is not bad. When we’re bursting full of love, we want to stay that way. We don’t want to become empty vessels. We don’t want to replete our energy levels. We want to live a full life. And yes, fullness can be painful. At times we’re full of anger. Or grief. Or sadness. Or anxiety. But to sit with it is better than to rid ourselves of it entirely. Sometimes a plate of pasta is just a plate of pasta. It fills you up. And it should bring you some joy. Even if you have to lie horizontal for three hours.
I aim to be satisfied. Sometimes I end up uncomfortable. I’m just trying not run away from either one of those feelings.
Recipes-not-recipes™️
November lunchtimes call for walks in puffy jackets, a quick coffee in the park then back home for this winter salad. I’ve had variations of this one all week. While unashamedly rewatching One Tree Hill.
Roast some garlic and squash or pumpkin in a preheated oven (around 200C). Drizzle with olive oil, sprinkle some chilli flakes or Aleppo pepper, nestle a few sprigs of thyme and season with salt and pepper. Roast the garlic in foil with a little oil and salt for about an hour. The squash will only need about 25-30 minutes.
Once the garlic is roasted and gooey, squeeze it out into a large bowl and mash with a fork. Add a big glug of extra v, a heaped teaspoon of mustard, a squeeze of honey, a few splashes of white wine/apple cider vinegar and lots of coarse sea salt. Keep on adding depending on how much you want to make. Whisk it into a dressing, adjusting tastes where necessary.
In a pan heat a small knob of butter and add some mushrooms (I used shimeji) and once they’ve softened and browned, add some thinly sliced kale/cavalo nero/chard).
When you’re ready to assemble the salad, wash a few leaves (I used a mix – would recommend something like frisée or rocket and lambs lettuce – basically the leaves with slightly less crunch, aka romaine/little gem/iceberg. That’s because I like the warmth of the other ingredients softening the leaves. Personal preference ya know). Add some thinly sliced pear and toss with the dressing (use your hands). Next, the mushrooms and greens. Another toss. Then the squash. Finally crumble some feta and season with dukkah.
Since I Asked.
I am constantly being influenced by Lucy Mee. Whether it’s to toast my frozen waffles (game changer!), or to buy any number of outfit elements that she undoubtedly looks chic AF in. To me, Lucy is the ideal dinner party host. Equal parts cool, calm and collected. Excellent in and out of the kitchen. A chief plater. And very good at IG reels. She’s a co-founder of On The Table (hands down the best recipe box on the market); one half of Bill Or Beak and Ink Fish Bar; and one whole lot of bouncy, sunshine energy.
It's autumn (verging on winter), what's on the menu chez Luce?
It’s got to be a really good slow cooked spicy broth with tonnes of different kinds of mushrooms, noodles and veggies
The kitchen tool you can't live without?
A Japanese Knife I was given for a present years ago
The meal you cook for a heartbroken mate?
Fish tacos, coriander salsa and A LOT of tequila.
When you can't think of what to cook, what do you do?
I grab a packet of mafalade pasta from Pastaio A Mano at Salthouse Bottles in Brockley and toss it up with butter, good olive oil, parm and loads of pepper. Would have it every night tbh.
What's in your freezer?
Birdseye Potato Waffles (Hack: If you put them in the toaster on full whack they cook in about 4 mins).
If you were an On The Table recipe box, which one would you be and why?
I think it would have to be the Seafood Tapas box so I can pretend I'm in Greece sipping on negronis and eating sake clams.
And because you’re my style inspiration, talk to me about your ultimate dinner party outfit.
Ok, it would deffo be a really striking pair of straight cut jeans – like they would be the star of the show. Either soft brown leather straight cut or my recent pair of jeans from Reformation with brown swirls all over them. Then I'd have an open toe heel, toes would match the trow. The top would be an off the shoulder number.
Leftovers.
I just love how Ruby Tandoh writes about food and history. This time, a piece on pies versus pastries for The New Yorker.
My fave Eric Kim on the beautiful simplicity of a great green salad for NYT Cooking.
Usually I’m strictly a meat ragu kind of girl, but for Caroline Gelen I’ll bend the rules and bow down to this mushroom rags with mafalde.
I’m so uncertain why, but I – like everyone else it seems – can’t stop watching Emily Mariko’s food content. It’s SO satisfying.
Looking forward to watching Boiling Point very soon.
Winter salads inspired by Hail Mary’s greens.