"All hobbits, of course, can cook, for they begin to learn the art before their letters (which many never reach); Sam was a good cook, even by hobbit reckoning, and he had done a good deal of the camp-cooking on their travels, when there was a chance. He still hopefully carrried some of his gear in his pack: a small tinder-box, two small shallow pans, the smaller fitting into the larger; inside them a wooden spoon, a short two-pronged fork and some skewers were stowed; and hidden at the bottom of the pack in a flat wooden box a dwindling treasure, some salt" ("Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit", Book IV, The Lord of the Rings).
Frodo’s and Sam’s journey to Mordor is made all the more believable and poignant by the intense humanness Tolkein creates for them. Sam’s steadfastness, stout heart and hope flag at times but rush to the surface at the slightest break in their dire circumstances. One such moment involves a high, clear star seen out of the smoke and stench of Mordor itself, another is a rabbit stew in a forest. Frodo, Sam and Gollum have finally left the Black gate behind and suddenly enter Ithilien, once the garden ante chamber to Minas Tirith: "As they walked, brushing their way through bush and herb, sweet odours rose about them. Gollum coughed and retched; but the hobbis breathed deep, and suddenly Sam laughed, for heart’s ease not for jest."
There he cooks a stew and feeds it to Frodo. So this is what struck my mind as I tried to think of a name for this new blog about a weekly meal that got underway this Tuesday. Actually mushrooms came first, mushrooms and then Hobbits and finally this scene. Because food is a beautiful thing, but more so the company in which it is enjoyed. And who can actually separate all the components that make food worth relishing. A piece of flat bread, for example, hot and fresh to be sure, but eaten in crisp mountain air under vast towers of snow and rock, or in a smoky hole of a restaurant with a flushed face and friends around drinking hot tea.