What Is Mindful Eating? Final Thoughts

I really enjoyed Mirval's Mindful Eating cookbook. It's a luxuriously photographed, educational, and well-written book, plus the recipes I tried were very good. The ratatouille sauce, in particular, will become a staple in my house.

That said, I think Miraval missed a big opportunity. Sure the introduction says that mindfulness is "...the core concept that shapes Miraval's programs and environment..." But nowhere did I see an explanation of mindful eating for either a beginner or someone who has not been to the Miraval Resort in Arizona. 

Sure, there was a short sentance stating that mindful eating is "...the art of reacquainting yourself with hunger and letting it cue you to eat, rather than feeding emotions."

Ok then.

The book said that choice is a guiding principle with meals at Miraval, and that the cookbook gives the reader "...tools to make smarter choices..." regarding portion size and the importance of using fresh local ingredients over processed foods."

I can't disagree with that.

But being mindful of what you eat is not just about learning hunger cues, portion size, and sourcing ingredients. Mindfulness is about the entire process of preparing and savoring and cleaning up after a meal. There is a totality of approach to cooking and eating that Miraval completely failed to emphasize in a cookbook.

What do I mean? Let's try an example.

I'm reminded of the raisin exercise taught to all who attened the introductory workshop weekends at the Omega Institute for Holistic Studies (I worked there for a couple of years in the late '90s.) Some participants scoffed at the idea of taking five or ten minutes to eat one raisin; others just didn't like raisins. But if you take the time to try this very simple thing, your whole way of experiencing nourishment has the potential to change.

*Find one raisin, and place it on an elegant serving piece. Take the time to consider about what the raisin has experienced to be able to nourish you. What was it's point of origin? What carbon emissions were expended for the rasisin to arrive at your doorstep? Did it come to your home in a bag? A box? Did you walk to the store or drive a car?

*Hold the raisin in your hand. Notice the creases, the colors. Hold the raisin by your fingertips and feel the texture. Bring the raisin closer and smell. Is it earthy? Fruity? Tangy? What else can you learn from observing the rasisin?  

*Now close your eyes and gently place the raisin in your mouth. Let the raisin roll around on your tongue. What flavor do you taste? Do you notice texture? Notice the reaction that happens as soon as food enters your mouth - the salivating is already beginning.

*Keep your eyes closed and begin to chew. Go slow. Pay attention to each and every movement, all of the many muscles and glands that combine to begin to breakdown the small raisin. When the raisin has disintigrated, swallow. Pause for some time, and reflect on how this simple act of eating one raisin is taken so much for granted.

There's no doubt that I'm just as likely to prepare a meal of local ingredients as I am to drive through a fast food joint. Rarely, though, do I take the time to both prepare and savor a full meal with my complete attention.

Unfortunately, this full-rounded, slow-moving experience of nourishing oneself is precisely what the Miraval cookbook failed to illuminate. With that small omission, they have missed a grand opportunity to enlighten and teach about true mindfulness.

No special equipment or ingredients needed.

Notes:
1) Yes, you can try this with a single craisin, grape, or a small piece of good chocolate!
2) There are many videos of the raisin exercise online. Try this one or this one for a good laugh.

Imagining Escoffier

While Twitter is a great way to have tiny interactions with people, I didn't think it was a way to learn about a great book.

Let me tell you, fellow food lovers, I have learned that lesson. Feast your eyes on this opening paragraph, and consider it merely an amuse bouche:

"That last summer, the kitchen reeked of pickling spice, anise seed and juniper berries. Watermelon jam, lavender jellies and crystalized fennel cooled on the pantry shelves. Jars with mango pickles and pickled onions, an old habit from his days in London, were set aside in the wine cellar to cure. Honeycombs were stacked in bowls on the sideboard, draining, waiting to be melted into candles or mixed with olive oil and pressed into soaps. Thunderstorms were canned along with plum jam. Memories seeped onto the pine floorboards. He was too busy writing his memoirs."

 

Within the first chapter of White Truffles in Winter, author N.M. Kelby makes it clear that she's an astute master of fiction as well as a learned foodie. We discover that the esteemed Auguste Escoffier "won" his bride in a billiard game, then seduced her for the first time as he deftly he directs his newfangled brigade de cuisine in a fire and coal heated kitchen - to say nothing of the scintillating egg preparation.

And through each and every chapter, the descriptions of food never ends. Why just in the first chapter alone, I was seduced and salivating:

"...small briny oysters from Corscia were nestled into a bed of pink rock salt; white asparagus were trimmed and served alongside a smoked duck salad; cream-fed pork was braised with pears and apples, and new potatoes were browned in duck fat and dusted with late summer truffles."

Each chapter reveals course after course of "deliciousness" to be discovered. There are behind-the-scenes restaurant intrigue, passionate affairs, disasterous decisions - all as respectfully and precisely played out out as a fine meal. The food descriptions keep coming at you throughout in a multi-course feast: slice of pullet, foie gras, Tournedos Rossini, chicken a la Bresse, langoustines, Caprice des Dieux, dark purple skins of figs, lemon curd tarts, peches de vigne, green hazelnuts, Alsatian borscht, baguettes, blackberries, apples, and -of course- Fraises Sarah.  

And the final denouemount? Naturally, you'll have to savor the whole read to get to the final bite. Push your table from the chair, and let out an audible sigh of pleasure. Then turn to page one and enjoy the whole meal over and over.