One of the many blessings of aging is that my memory capacity is changing.  I won’t say “going” or “deteriorating”; I am not there yet.  This creates wonderful surprises for me each day.  For example: last weekend when I arrived home from the FBC Conference, I left my suitcase just inside the door.  I packed up a different case, to take with me (when I left the house at 5:30 the next morning), to fly back up north, to finish off a teaching commitment.  Now that I am home again, I opened my FBC suitcase like it was Christmas morning!

So too, as I read back over the notes that I took during the sessions, I am delighted by the nuggets of wisdom that I can apply to my craft.  I was especially struck by three people and they all happen to be men, which is ironic when you consider that the conference was primarily attended by females with mostly female presenters.  Don’t misunderstand me, I love the company of women: their insights and tenderness and affection.  Male voices just seemed to resonate with me last weekend, like the feeling you get when watching a parade and the drum corp marches by.

Dan Clapson made an first impression on me when he was part of the panel of speakers for the “Making Dough-Earning a Living with Your Words” session but when I was really inspired was when he spoke up during “The Changing Face of Food Writing” as he passionately interjected that he and his fellow writer/bloggers from Alberta were unified in their promotion of local food, producers and the provinces’ vibrant restaurant scene.  Were you also impressed by his courage to challenge the “Toronto-centric” perspective?

I was bewildered when I saw other conference attendees swarm the speakers’ table to get Corey Mintz’s autograph.  But as soon as he mentioned his rubbing of shoulders with Ruth Reichl, I too might have been tempted.  Her books Tender to the Bone and Garlic and Sapphires are among my favourite culinary non-fiction reads.  I read Corey’s How to Host a Dinner Party in two sittings this week.  I immensely enjoyed his instruction, in spite of the fact that I felt like an idiot for not knowing what “guanciale” was (I still don’t know how to pronounce it).  Sarah Polley’s introduction of her friend Corey instantly connected me to him, with these words:

Through learning to cook, he developed an eloquent, uncomplicated way of showing love without irony.

This declaration confirmed my personal life equation: food=love.  Might I also add, that I adore when people “get” me and I think that I get Corey Mintz.  His book’s final paragraph, reads:

Because in the end, it’s about connecting with people over food.  That’s what’s important to me.  Within this book, hopefully, I’ve provided some guidance so that more people can make that happen more often, and with greater comfort.

The last say was given to keynote David Leite, whom I will admit, I did not remember hearing of previously.  Perhaps it is the memory thing again because I avidly read  The Best Food Writing series each and every year and must have come across he and his writings before.  I really need to listen to his sage advice of backing away from the desk and the stove.  Being a relatively new blogger, I am too focused on the quantity of my posts.  I need to give myself permission to sit longer at our dining room table after the dinner has been consumed, walk my dog with less urgency (“would you please poop, so we can get home”) and just … be.

When David declared: “I love language”, he intended “love” to be a verb.  I consider “love” to also have great significance as a noun and “love language” is my native tongue.  Since last weekend, I have spent time in a troubled Manitoba northern community and watched the horrific bombings of the Boston marathon.  If the language of love could be spoken more often, in our homes, communities, country and around the world, it might not change the world, but then again, it just might.

Kath’s quote: “There is no love sincerer than the love of food.”-George Bernard Shaw

Love-that is all.

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