And we go sailing home

I had no idea where I was heading, but in that dim, bewildering world I believed my only salvation was to keep moving somewhere, moving anywhere, even though my sense of direction had deserted me. And then from the impenetrable core of the mist I heard the captain's voice coming at me clear as a warning horn, repeating something he had told me during one of my early sailing lessons when I pushed the tiller the wrong way and almost threw the boat into a dangerous jibe.

"Let go of the tiller!" he was saying. "Just let go of the tiller! Don't try to steer when you're confused!"

I followed his advice and the blue sloop did exactly what she was supposed to do. She nudged up gently into the breeze into the breeze and came to a standstill. I went up on the bow and tossed the anchor overboard and sat on the foredeck, waiting for a revelation, a glimmer of light, to tell me where I was and which way I had to go.

Deep in the centre of that fog there was no shoreline, no guiding star, no rising sun, no setting moon. But I had enough sailing experience by then to know that if I studied the elements carefully I would discover a clue that would put the muddled compass of my mind back in working order. What I had to do was sit calmly on the deck and empty my mind of all its preconceived notions and prejudices about the nature of fog, and then I would be able to detect the one constant in the swirling mist that would set me on my rightful course.

It was out there, I was sure it was, but for all my concentration it refused to appear. And then all at once I remembered that a boat at anchor, like a gull on a post, is a weather vane; it points ino the wind, and when I knew that I also knew what I was looking for and why it had eluded me. I had been peering into the fog, searching the most obscure place, as if the solution was hidden from view, when in fact it was self-evident, and that was exactly the attribute that made it so hard to find.

It was the wind, and I knew it by its moist touch, by its scent, by its speed that it was still blowing as it had been blowing all morning - from the east. I hauled the anchor and caught a puff in my jib; I steered sideways to the breeze and, sailing a broad reach, headed north toward home.


~ First You Have To Row a Little Boat, Richard Bode.

Homeward bound, Jacob became Israel.

Homeward bound, God wrestled with Jacob.
At PENIEL,Jacob became Israel.


















Jacob wrestling with God by Eugene Delacroix

生活就是艺术

生活就是艺术。

艺术不是一件挂在墙上的画，不是一件摆在橱上的雕塑，不是一支完美的舞曲，不是一个昂贵的价位，不是一个专属的社群， 不只限一种的翻译。

生活就是艺术 - 艺术就在生活里。
懂得生活就懂得艺术。
活的好就是一门艺术。
我的生活就是我的艺术，而我就是那艺术家。

完完全全的生活。

Eat Right! Nehemiah said "Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks..."

Neh 8: 10
Nehemiah said, "Go and enjoy choice food and sweet drinks, and send some to those who have nothing prepared. This day is sacred to our Lord. Do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength."


12 Then all the people went away to eat and drink, to send portions of food and to celebrate with great joy, because they now understood the words that had been made known to them.


It must have been real great enjoyment. A feast of the body, mind and soul.
I wonder how many times has one eaten in such a manner? True satisfaction to the core!
I can't distinctively remembering eating this way. Something is always missing.

Spiritual Food, Comfort Food, Physical Food - all in one, all the same, when eaten with understanding.

That's not my name

They call me 'mum'
They call me 'daughter'
They call me 'wife'
They call me 'sister'
That's not my name
That's not my name
That's not my name
That's not my name

They call me 'girl’
They call me 'pretty'
They call me 'gentle'
They call me 'sweet'
That's not my name
That's not my name
That's not my name
That's not my name

Are you calling me mummy?
Are you calling me wife?
Are you calling me sister?
Are you calling me girl?

 
(Adpated from the Ting Tings, That's not my name)

Food, Flavour and Filled

"If you are hungry enough, any food will satisfy."

I was watching Peter Reinhart on TED about the art of bread making - to be specific, wholegrain bread (see extract below, visit TED for full preso). He explained the challenge for a wholegrain baker is how do you make it taste good. It is easy with white bread, but with wholegrain, one faces more obstacles. How to evoke the full potential of flavor trapped in the grain, deliver the flavor and the food to the palate so that the eater is not just full, but filled.


So the key is the flavour. Flavour that makes you come back wanting for more.
And this is not easy.


I know how many a times I ate and were not filled (though full). It is quite a lousy experience.


Is it a lack of hunger or appetite?

Is it problem of the food OR flavour?

I remembered I was watching the "Korea Hour" and there was this man commenting on the food he ate. He said he can taste "spring" in the food (it was the start of spring) and he felt he was full of energy now after the meal. Are we eating right?
How to have an appetite that makes everything tasty?
Also how to digest well that I am energised by the consumption?

And ultimately, the challenge of the baker, the challenge of every culinary student, of every chef, is to deliver flavor. Flavor is king. Flavor rules. I call it the flavor rule. Flavor rules. And -- and you can get somebody to eat something that's good for them once, but they won't eat it again if they don't like it, right?

And so this is, again, hopefully not only a healthy bread, but a bread that you will enjoy.