My Week in Food (and Art)

I’ve lost my way to cutting board and stove. Only the simplest of foods get made in my kitchen these days.

But classes are over, and I have been free(er) to wander. As usual, the loosening of routine opens me up to the random geography of the city. Wandering, I am full of wonder.

I bring my students to Trinity Square Video, to see an excellent show called Extra-Territoriality. It’s good to be out of the classroom, and surrounded by art. One of the artists, Ursula Biemann, talks to us about her new video essay, X-Mission, which explores the physical and psychic geography of Palestinian refugees.

There is a tea party reception being set up as we leave. I call The Diasporic Filmmaker, she joins me, we stay for tea.

The DF and I continue our conversation at the lovely French bistro Jules, over rosé wine and frites avec mayonnaise. Rain taps against glazed windows; chandeliers glimmer in the muted daylight. We talk about our films, and about sex, and relationships and the aura of new creative projects on the horizon.

We part on a street corner, and I keep walking, past vegetables glistening brightly in the soft spring rain.

A few days later, Balkan Babe invites me for dinner at her home in The Junction. It’s like leaving town and going back a few decades, what with the neighbourhood’s old-fashioned architecture and signage.

Balkan Babe has wine and appetizers set up for me on a bistro table as she cooks handmade gnocchi with mushroom sauce. I recognize this old-world hospitality, feels like home.

I tell her I think I may be done with cooking. She snorts dismissively and fills my plate with food.