Whatever this is - or becomes - started out as a spam page that I made with no goal besides keeping my own little catalog with memories of moments around food that I had enjoyed, for one reason or another.
I began to photograph food that I would eat out or make at home, following no set of rules or agenda, just remembering to photograph. Without any long descriptions I’d simply post the pictures I’d collect: for me to know the who, what, where and when’s and for others to possibly see. There came a point where this started to feel a bit selfish, because when I continued documenting these moments I began paying attention to what I was eating and how the food itself would make me feel, but also to the context and the people that were or weren’t present and how this had an equal weight as the food before me. There are few things as nurturing as sharing, receiving, giving and eating a meal.
So, this website is my attempt to share and give continuity to developing my thoughts around food, cooking it, sharing it, what it means and what it does - still not really following a set of rules.
Since this is my first “post”, I think it only makes sense to explain why this website is called what it is. One of the things that starting this project has made me think about is all the ways that the systems around food and how we live in them are super conspicuous yet sometimes unappreciated. Obviously, there are plenty of reasons why the common plate is round - the main reason being convenience - but the question originated from wondering how the way we relate to food could be different if we played with it, and that could be through a spectrum of changes. The spectrum is endless.
The culture around food can be ritualistic, political, traditional, symbolic, emotional, learned and shared, commodified, institutional, resistant, and expressive. I find it to be a part of our lives that is so telling of who we are as individuals and communities, which is also something I’ve been navigating since beginning this “project”.
As mentioned on the home page, I’m still not fully sure what I see coming out of this but maybe that’s the point. I hope it starts conversations, gets people to meet up over food, nurtures friendships and connections, unveils someone’s new favorite spot to get noodles and ultimately help me form my thoughts into some sort of direction.
I still haven’t developed a dynamic for this website, but to end my posts I aim to leave something for whoever reads. Today, it’ll be the recipe I’ve probably cooked for myself the most. I made it everyday for an entire week once when I was in my first year of university, and since then have probably made it (or a variation of it) at least once every two weeks...not joking. I could make it with my eyes closed, and I think it’s a perfect fit for this post.
Ingredients (all very roughly estimated in quantity):
spaghetti
1 tbsp of salted butter
2 tbsp of extra virgin olive oil
2 garlic cloves
½ a shallot
cup of plum/cherry tomatoes
splash of white wine
½ can of peeled tomatoes
general seasonings you may or may not like to use:
02. add your desired amount of dry spaghetti into the pot and let cook while you make the sauce.
03. in a pan, heat some olive oil and a small piece of butter over medium low heat.
04. mince the garlic cloves and the shallot finely and add into the pan with olive oil and butter.
05. chop the plum/cherry tomatoes in halves and add into the pan to simmer with the garlic and shallot - mix for 2 minutes on medium heat.
06. add a splash of white wine and let all juices mix together
07. add the peeled tomatoes and then season before mixing for two minutes over medium low heat or until the spaghetti has finished cooking.
08. strain your spaghetti and add into the sauce.
09. serve and top with any of your prefered garnish, and enjoy
My sister came to visit me in London in 2022, and every time we talk on the phone since then, the trip always - without fail - comes up in conversation. Amalia arrived on my 9th month living by myself for the first time, and lets be honest, I was nowhere close to having achieved financial responsibility. To sum it up, it was a trip of extremes: from scavenging Clio’s pantry for any food she could leave behind for us before leaving London for summer to 3 star michelin restaurants, it was a trip that I hope to tell my grandchildren about.
I was 20 at the time and my sister was 17. I was very much enjoying all the thrills that come with living alone for the first time (and learning how to cook for myself properly) and she was enjoying the thrills of getting a preview of that too. I learned a lot about my sister and I hope she learned from me as well, but together we learned a lot about London (one thing being all the basic spots to hit when in London).
Talking about food, the star of this trip was Gail’s Bakery: Amalia developed a deep obsession with their iced chai lattes, begging to stop everytime we passed by a franchise. Those who live in London will know, this is a trap because Gail’s will slowly take ALL your money! We found ourselves quickly having to budget, and while I do believe every other food checkpoint we marked along the trip earned its badge for its own forte, it was the fact that it felt like putting down a deposit everytime we got food that made those checkpoints even more special.
It’s worth mentioning another place we went to at Harrod’s food hall: Kama by Vineet, the Indian restaurant which sadly closed two years ago. I’m glad we got to go, because while I’m sure it might not be the most “genuine” Indian food (it was clearly targeted for tourists), it was still speechlessly good. Like good tourists, we got the butter chicken with garlic naan as a main to share, and the samosa chickpea daal as a starter. My mouth waters just thinking about it.
Fourth unforgettable checkpoint was L’entrecote in Marylebone. Amalia and I queued, but I can’t even remember how long! That must be a sign that it’s worth the wait. A classic probably anywhere it has a franchise, this restaurant only serves one thing: a salad entrée with a dijon mustard vinaigrette and a main of french fries with grilled steak bathed in their famous sauce. The best part is when they serve you seconds, and the amount of food you eat proves itself worth every pound you pay. Coming from Mexico, this is not how we’d usually think of eating a steak (I do think a steak taco is one of the best things on the planet), so for Amalia and I it became particularly memorable.
Next up is my personal favorite: La Fromagerie. Their store in Marylebone holds a special place in my heart, since it’s where I shared a moment over how good the cheese selection was with my dad when he helped me move to London in 2021. I celebrate my birthday by getting brunch here every year, and take only my closest friends. It’s a bit of a sacred spot for me, so it was a must on my list of places to go to with Amalia. We went for the french cheese board (my favorite) and a side of charcuterie.
The last highlight of our trip was on the penultimate night before our trip together came to an end. Sponsored by our dad as a treat to celebrate that we had this trip together, we booked a table for two at Core by Clare Smyth. Amalia and I first heard of her when we saw her on The Final Table, and having dinner here made me understand all the reasons why she’s so esteemed. We were served a despicable amount of food, all presented in unique little plates and presentations that made it feel like a TV show binge watch but for our tummies. We got two set menues, the dynamic being that the menu’s dishes were inspired by the seasons of the year. I often get messages from Amalia to talk about how good one potato with beurre blanc dish had been (too good to be true). Eating at these type of restaurants is such a treat, and I feel beyond lucky that I got to share this experience with my sister.
That’s all for this post, but to sign off I leave you with this interview I found while writing this post: Click here for the link
(...we may be basic after all)
que es eso? eso es...queso
There’s nothing more comforting to me than sharing cheese with somebody else, and of course it’s always better when it’s shared with people I love. Cheese became a bit of an obsession of mine in past years, and is partly one of the main subjects that inspired me to develop my exploration of food and what it means to me. From its history to its many forms, I think it’s one of mankinds best creations.
La Fromagerie
2-6 Moxon St, London W1U 4EW
It was a September day in 2021 and I had only been in London for around a week and a half. My dad and I were strolling around Marylebone: from his memories of when we lived in London, it was his favorite area. He told me about a tour he had done with my Mom where they were taken around specialist shops to learn about different ingredients, and many of them were in this area. We passed by the fishmonger that they went to 16 years ago, the greengrocers and finally the cheese shop. We went inside and sat at their restaurant where we ordered a french cheese board, and I quickly realized that this would be one of my favorite places in London for years to come.
Since going with my dad that time, I’ve gone only with people I hold close to my heart. I go every year on my birthday to have brunch, and whenever I’m in the area I cant resist stopping by and taking a soft cheese or a comté back home with me.
If you’re ever in the need for some great cheese and bread, a good glass of wine and some delicious cured meats, I could not recommend this place more.
Gordon’s Wine Bar
47 Villiers St, London, WC2N 6NE
There’s another cheese spot that I was also introduced to by my dad. It’s called Gordon’s Wine Bar, and its rumored to be London’s oldest wine bar. Its indoor area is set in a type of bunker looking cave, candle-lit and damp smelling in an oddly comforting way. Outdoors, there are two long rows of tables available, all spaced out by no more than 20 cm than each other.
This place is great for any situation; outdoors there is so much going on, ideal for going with a group of friends. Indoors is intimate, perfect for a one to one catch up or a date. You can never go wrong with this place, day or night.
To end today’s post, I’m attaching a link to La Fromagerie’s Academy of Cheese, a series of courses offered a couple times a year where you are taught about cheese-tasting, cheese’s ripening process, and more:
https://lafromagerie.co.uk/pages/academy-of-cheese
Here’s a couple recipes I’ve been enjoying over my fourth Summer in London. No strict rules.
1. grilled gem lettuce with dijon mustard lemon sauce
ingredients: gem lettuce, around a tablespoon of dijon mustard, a sliced lemon, salt and butter.
1. cut your gem lettuce into fourths length-wise
2. heat up a pan and melt some butter on it.
3. add the gem lettuce with its flat faces onto the buttered pan and let it grill.
4. flip onto the other flat side so the other face also grills evenly.
5. plate the lettuce and sprinkle with salt, and then drizzle the mustard sauce to your liking.
2. roast chickpea and honey glazed carrots over yoghurt sauce
ingredients: tub of greek yoghurt, a lemon, olive oil, a garlic clove, honey, chickpeas, carrots, salt, paprika, pepper, dill.
2. pat your chickpeas dry and coat them in a mix of olive oil, paprika, salt and pepper. place this in an oven safe pan or tray.
3. cut some carrots in fourths lenth-wise and place in the pan or tray. drizzle some honey over them and then slide into the oven.
4. while the chickpeas and carrots roast, create the yoghurt sauce:
a. mix roughly one cup of greek
yhogurt, a minced garlic clove or
two, salt, pepper, and the juice of
an entire lemon in a bowl and then
make a bed with this mix on a
plate.
5. after around 25-30 minutes, take out the chickpeas and the carrots and place them over the yhogurt sauce.
6. garnish with some dill or herbs of your preference, a sprinkle of olive oil and some pepper.
3. tomato and strawberry salad
ingredients: vine tomatoes, strawberries, shallots, fennel, olive oil, mint, chilli flakes, salt and pepper.
2. cut some vine tomatoes into bite-size pieces and do the same with some strawberries.
3. plate the tomatoes and strawberries and then coat them in the shallots along with the oil they cooked in.
4. add some mint leaves into the mix and then top with a splash of olive oil, generous chilli flakes, fennel leaves, some salt and pepper.
4. spinach and heirloom tomato filo pastry
ingredients: spinach, heavy cream, grated grana padano, heirloom tomatoes, basil, filo pastry sheets, butter, salt and pepper.
2. slice some heirloom tomatoes into thin slices and put aside.
3. in a sauce pan, begin by wilting some spinach and basil leaves in olive oil.
4. slowly pour heavy cream into the saucepan and mix as you go so the spinach and basil incorporate with the cream. Add some salt and pepper for flavour, and then also start folding in grated grana padano into the mix.
5. arrange the filo pastry sheets on an oven safe pan so it holds like a pie crust (stack minimum 4 sheets).
6. fill the base with the creamed spinach and sprinkle some cheese over the mix.
7. cover the spinach base with the heirloom tomato and drizzle some olive oil over them generously. Add some salt and pepper and slide into the oven.
8. after around 30-40 minutes (or until the filo pastry turns nice and golden) take the pastry out and cut like a pizza.
5. mascarpone, orange and burnt sage linguine - Meike Peters recipe
ingredients: linguine pasta, sage, butter, an egg yolk, mascarpone cheese, orange (juice and zest), salt and pepper.
2. in a bowl, whisk the mascarpone with the egg yolk and the juice from an orange until fully incorporated.
3. once the linguine is cooked through, add the warm pasta into the bowl with the mascarpone sauce.
4. in a new pan, bring some butter to melt and fry some sage leaves in it until they‘re crispy.
5. plate the linguine with its sauce and top with the sage leaves, salt, pepper and some orange zest.
To end, in honour of Medieval Summer I will leave you all this recipe for Medieval Gingerbread by James L. Matterer:
Walking out of my first architecture job for the last time felt incredibly strange, and all I could see on my way home were the possibilities in front of me unfolding like an infinite flipbook. My anticipated yet unsolicited funemployment era had begun, and after months of creative blocks I finally felt like I had some time to sit and squash them.
I had a summer full of food. In London and in Mexico, I connected with the people I love through moments of shared consumption. My family spent their July in London, and we managed to tick off a bunch of places which must be talked about in another post. Then, Ben and I went to visit Mexico where we spent lots of amazing moments centered around sharing food with my family as well, but since my writing is not linear, that will have to be a range of separate posts as well.
This post is to talk about why the prospect of being unemployed has made me anxious in the best way possible (even though having another job is, to a fault, something I’m really looking forward to). Now that I have some time to refine my personal projects - mainly including “Why Are Plates Round” - I’ve been able to refine a lot of the untamed thoughts I have had on my mind for a while.
One of these thoughts was the idea of consumption as healing, instead of deteriorating. The ways we consume ultimately define who we are, whether its digital consumption, material consumption, edible consumption, alas. People consume so much nowadays, it’s difficult to exist without seeing yourself (and what you produce) as consumable, which makes me wonder if anybody truly knows how to exist as “unconsumable”. We’ve all had days where we’ve spent ridiculous hours on our phones consuming nonsense most times, or feeling crap because we overindulged in a late-night kebab the night before - wondering “was that really necessary?”. Don’t get me wrong, I’m extremely guilty of it, but what I’m trying to end at is that I’d like to commit to consuming in ways that add instead of subtract, and one of the ways I’d like to explore this is through the realm of food consumption.
This goes beyond eating “healthy” and buying “local” and all of that (important!) talk. I wonder if the spaces in which we eat can help us connect back to ourselves as a means of making the ritual of consuming a meal something healing. When I was younger, I remember thinking the breakfast table at my grandparent’s house was one of the most comforting places ever. Having a breakfast sobremesa1 after eating before everybody got on with the day was a ritual that to this day hasn’t changed. It was always the people around me, but I wondered if it was my association to the space as well that makes sitting at that table even if it’s alone so comforting.
I started looking at similar man-made spaces - from churches to bath houses to restaurants with long tables - and ultimately focused on two types of spaces: The Japanese Tea House ( 茶室 ) and the Mesoamerican Temazcal. One dedicated to the ritual of drinking tea, and the other dedicated to rituals of rebirth. I thought merging the two could be an interesting point to start looking at how edible consumption, such as drinking tea, can be a form of feeling “reborn”, ultimately being a series of purifying and healing processes.
Both follow strict spatial rules. They are heavy on the geometric harmony of the space and its function, but ultimately it is all there to help dictate the person’s experience upon encountering the space. While the tea house is centered around harmony in space - specifically the man-made and the natural - the Temazcal is centered around forcing the visitor to focus on their “invisible” surroundings (particularly heat).
Both consist of small entrances that force the visitor to literally crawl into the space, physically making you practice humility. They each have specific materials used for their interiors as well, where the tea house is built with the geometry of the tatami mat in mind (2:1 ratio) and the Temazcal is usually built with volcanic rock, mudbrick and clay.
While this mash-up is purely speculative, I’ve started wondering how small confined spaces where the function is simply to be - perhaps drinking a cup of tea or eating a piece of fruit, forcing yourself to look at the place in which you are consuming holds a lot of potential to appreciate where you are and who you’re with. As a starting point, I’ve began sketching some layouts of what this type of space could look like:
It has been a nice exercise to start exploring what these ideas can materialize into, especially knowing the only restrictions are the ones I choose to impose, so I’ve promised myself to keep it up. As I write aimlessly about my funemployment days (which I truly acknowledge are a privilege to be able to enjoy), I’d like to keep these posts as records for myself to look back at, almost like progress reports, surrounding these new sections where I’d like to dig deeper at how this hobby can help me grow creatively in different ways. And tonight, when I sit at the dinner table in my flat having what will probably be another bowl of pasta, I’ll sit facing towards the room and not giving my back to it like usual :)
To end today’s entry I’ll leave you with a picture of the tea I’ve started having nearly every morning (hoping it becomes a new ritual and that I can substitute coffee for tea to some extent) - it’s a Genmaicha that I got at Japan House here in London (little puffed rice!):
until next time,
1 sobremesa: a word lost in translation, but ultimately means the moments you spend chatting at the table after the meal has finished.
“why are plates round” recipe index
ii. grilled gem lettuce with dijon mustard lemon sauce
iii. roast chickpea and honey glazed carrots over yoghurt sauce
iv. tomato and strawberry salad
v. spinach and heirloom tomato filo pastry
vi. mascarpone, orange and burnt sage linguine