The Hectic Attic

What’s the most important room in your house? This would be a good question to begin a therapy analysis. I think it´s because when we reveal the most important place of the house in our opinion, we reveal the favorite place of our soul.

For some people, the most important place is the Kitchen, it’s not more beautiful or tidy. The tidiest place is the living room, remember? With the souvenirs, mirrors, rugs… In the living room children have to behave, wearing their masks. But the kitchen is different… there we are hungry, we have fire and happiness.

Remember those old stoves? Logs inside, coffee, sparkling fire, the smell of smoke, rosy cheeks…sometimes my soul misses these old country kitchens… these old stoves are different from the new ones, look at it like a single candle. A simple match can lighten it up. No art or science is necessary to do it, even children can do it! The lonely fire has a different personality. It’s different from the log fire, where we have to put a log in the perfect time, like in a fireplace.

People nowadays only know the electric or gas fire, they don’t know anything about the art of the logs, and with it much is lost. Exupèry said:

“somewhere the fire was burning and I could fly, and around the fire, some people were getting warm”.

Someone once said the men came to be when the first song was sung. And I think, it was sung by the fire. Before the song, the fire. A lighten fire can be a solitary communion. Solitary because the fire that sparkles there awakens some dreams that are only ours. But the solitary dreams become communitarian when we eat and warm up.

In the old houses in the countryside of my country, the kitchens used to be the last place of the house, the most distant from the entrance, like in my Grandparent´s house. Not because it was not important, but because it was protected by being there. To protect the intimacy of the family. It was also very close to a place of dreams, the Garden, where we could get some seasonings to cook special dreams.

But from living abroad I learnt something; many houses have their kitchens connected to the living room or some place people gather to talk. So everyone could enjoy the magic ritual of cooking, while listening to music and chatting. So, the cooking was part of the family and friendship routine. I would like to be many things, a pianist, gardener, writer, artist… life is short and the arts are many. But I would also like to be a cook.

My grandmother was a great cook (nowadays we cook for her, and she barely eat).I remember her cooking things that were so delicious I can´t describe, and she never had a notebook with recipes. (That´s why most of it was lost with her memory).

Sometime ago, when I used to have my own place, I used to like to invite friends to cook once a month. Yes, I didn´t invite them for dinner, I invited them to cook. The party used to start early, around 6 pm. And everyone helped, chopping, peeling, preparing. And we know, the objective is not the start, nor the end, it’s the path in between these two points. Eating is the end, but is very fast…but the path to get there is long. And we used to cook, drink a bit, eat a bit, laugh a lot, chat. It was ready about eleven o´clock. And we were happy.

Friends cooking before Poetry Sharing

Rossana and Cy working hard and being Happy

I feel happy when I cook, eve though I am not a cook. I prepare simple recipes, and like to try and create new ones. Cooking bring us close to the magical place of our soul, just like Vianne does in Chocolat by Joanne Harris, where through their food, they change the life of a whole country village… What makes me think I must finish reading this book now…

Fausto and Dani "wine experts"?

After feeding the body, we used to feed the soul with music, poetry, dance...ARTS!

Aline Cook Martins

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