Lonely dinner table

A dinner table was meant to be shared. The culture that invented it must've been one whose skins bore the deep furrows that loneliness surely left on them after centuries of soul wrenching battles. At the end there prevailed this conviction that if the human being is not meant to be alone, there is no other moment in which loneliness blows its icy breath the coldest than at meal times. Having bread alone is like loving... alone, with no one to share it.

Although this blog is supposed to revolve around food, it does not do that every time. One reason is that blogging amounts to setting the table at dinner time when one is utterly alone. This is so because writing is a solitary excercise. Greek-French cartoonist and writer Vassilis Alexakis so describes it in his Je t'oublirierai tous les jours:

"En ajoutant un mot aprés l'autre, je construisais un mur invisible autour de moi, je protégeais ma solitude."

However, coming to the table of this blog is not a quest for loneliness. It's an evidence of its cold presence all around.