We went to the grocery store the other day. We grabbed a bunch of vegetables. Everything that looked fresh and wholesome and good. Whatever we saw. Whatever we wanted. We grabbed in twos and threes, tucked them into plastic bags and piled the cart high. Tiny juicy tomatoes, dark green broccoli, tender zucchini, earthy mushrooms, aromatic leeks, sweet basil.
We got home and chopped it all up. We filled two baking dishes with mounds of fresh vegetables, then drizzled olive oil over the top, shook on freshly ground black pepper and coarse sea salt, splashed on some French vinaigrette and tossed it all together. We roasted everything in the oven until the house was saturated with delicious smells, until the tomatoes burst and everything else was sizzling and tender-crisp. We pulled it out of the oven and added a light sprinkling of freshly ground Parmesan cheese.
We stacked piping hot vegetables onto our plates, then added generous slices of pot roast that had been in the slow cooker for hours. So tender and dripping with mushroom gravy.
I sat down to my meal and it was so simple. Just veggies and meat, a few spices. It was so wholesome. Natural, fresh. And it was so good! I felt nourished, right down to the tips of my toes. I felt filled up, not just my stomach but my whole being. Whatever that essence is, that makes us who we are, that makes us alive, that part of me was satiated, was fed. Lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely evening.
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