Unless you're a professional chef, most of your cooking happens in your home, behind closed doors. Occasionally friends come over or even rarer, a stranger might tag along with them. You might volunteer to cook for a shelter or a church event now and then, or bring a favorite dish to a potluck or picnic. But mostly our cooking and eating is an intensely private family affair kept inside the confines of our homes. I wonder what would happen if that wasn't always the case?
Yesterday I was watching one of those flashmob videos that are everywhere these days. They've gotten so numerous and popular that I usually don't bother as one is starting to look a lot like the other. But for some reason this time I decided to watch a popular one called Som Sabadell, which was about making music in a public square. It started out with a single, tuxedoed man playing solo in a town square in Sabadell, Spain and eventually it grew as more and more people joined him, the music swelling and growing with it. It ended with a dramatic full orchestra and chorus, all singing Beethoven's Ode to Joy. With the exception of the first player, all the musicians and singers were in casual dress and looked like they had just wandered by and decided to join in.
I was really moved by how something which is usually kept very confined and hidden and formal, something that was usually only available only to those who can pay the price at the door, was suddenly set free. There was a wild, energetic kind of happiness in both the performers and the audience, a kind of a thrill as the walls were torn down and suddenly everyone was a part of the music in a very real, very direct way. Of course, it didn't hurt that it was Ode to Joy.
This naturally made me think about food and cooking (because everything makes me think about food and cooking). I guess the equivalent of the Som Sabadell video would be if a fancy restaurant staged a free meal in a public square or parking lot or at the very least, if a group of friends cooked a spontaneous meal in a public setting and invited whomever wandered by to sit down and eat. But it also got me to thinking about how private our home cooking is and if that's always a good thing.
Like a lot of modern inventions such as private bedrooms and indoor plumbing, people dining in their own small family units in a private space wasn't always the case. People used to dine and cook communally, especially in cities and villages where home kitchens were nonexistent or very minimal. And before that, we all shared in the kill when the hunters came home.
I wonder what we have lost by not sharing our meals together, or only doing this in a limited, occasional way. Food is a potent force in our lives: it keeps us alive after all. We've all heard many inspiring stories about how the simple act of sharing food has deescalated a violent and fear-driven situation or how enemies have found common ground when cooking and eating together. Even the corporate world understands this kind of bonding when they send groups to cooking classes for team building.
What would be some ways we could open up our kitchens, if in fact we actually want to do that? Hold a soup party on your front stoop and feed anyone who happens by? Organize a monthly potluck in the neighborhood like these people (it's been going on for over 20 years)? Ask four friends to dinner but have each of them bring someone who is a stranger to the group? Or maybe you could do that flash mob dinner with some friends in a busy public place.
Either way, it might be interesting to think about what would happen if we stepped outside of our four walls and opened up our kitchens to the world. If we shared our cooking in some way that was about our common humanity, that gave our neighbors and strangers alike not only a full belly but a feeling of belonging. If we somehow managed to touch someone we've never seen before with a simple meal and even a sense of kinship and plenty. I wonder what would happen then?
Related: Weekend Meditation: Trading Chickens for Shoes
(Image: Dana Velden)
Martha Concrete Lam...

I was just having a conversation with someone where I was trying to make the point that food isn't equal to love and community, nor is it not equal to love and community. That it could be, and should be both at various times and to various degrees. Then you post this! Which in one way is saying a very similar thing, only leaving out the positive aspects of the intimacy and richness of the more private dining/eating/cooking experience. Both are amazing for their own right.
And I would totally be on board to help plan and execute something like this flashmob idea. I love the idea of feeding anyone who passes by.
I am not sure it's true that people didn't "used to" have private home kitchens. In some cultures or at some seasons, hearths were/are communal and at the centers of villages when weather was hot and dry, but in colder and wetter climes, hearths for cooking in individual houses were pretty universal, and family groups generally cooked amongst themselves. The idea of making a kitchen a separate room is definitely more recent in most places, since "let's make sure every room has only one function!" is a fairly modern, wealthy conception of housing...but private home cooking itself is not. Also, in cultures where people do/did divide up meat after hunting, they often take it home to cook in private homes. They're not mutually exclusive - in fact, if all cooking were communal, nobody would have ever bothered with distribution to different families in the first place.
Communal cooking was more a festive thing, the way it is on Thanksgiving now. And that's perhaps because, as we learn on Thanksgiving every year, it is exhausting, expensive, and nobody has enough space. I think it's fine where it is - rare, wonderful, but not an everyday thing.
There is a group called Food Not Bombs that cooks food and distributes it for free in public places, mostly the the homeless, and they are being arrested and harassed by police for it in many places. More than 40 cities have passed laws banning or limiting sharing food in public. Generally people ignore these laws being passed, or even applaud them, because they feel better when the problem of hunger and homelessness is hidden. But keep in mind that this idea you have (that I personally really like, and think would be fabulous and fun) might already be illegal where you live, and many other cities are considering similar laws.
In the south, these are 40, 50, 60, 80, 100, 200 years old.
They're usually church-related, which is awful, but the ones that aren't are, frankly, better than eating at any restaurant.
In my ancestral Greek village, everyone put their dinner in the village baker's oven to cook while they went out to pasture with the goats, or up into the fields to tend the crops. In the evening, they all pulled out their food, and shared the day AND the food until it was time to retire for the night.
My grandfather eventually paid to electrify the village and the first thing they bought was a giant electric baker's oven where they continued to cook communally!
Unfortunately, they eventually got TVs and now cook privately at home while watching The Box
Part of the reason it is illegal in many cities to feed anyone in the streets is the liability of it. You and the city can be sued by anyone who might think they got sick from what you fed them. Sorry but that is the world we live in.
It surprises me when I read posts on Kitchn about hosting - it often seems as if the host is expected to singlehandedly put on a 'production' for the guests. Perhaps I'm unusual, but I consider my kitchen is a communal space when I 'entertain'. The meal is always still on the go when my 'guests' arrive, and I am more than happy for them to join in and share their expertise. I find that in countries like France, Spain, and Italy, this is often the norm, the kitchen is less of a private space.
Just sent out invites to my annual soup party yesterday! Much like a cookie exchange, we instead trade soup and sample our wares. Seven years running and I always make a point to include someone new each year. The communal feel of this night is why it's become an annual event and the parting guests always say, "please! let me come again next year!!" I feel a little awkward sending the invite to people I barely know, but by the end of the night, I know them well. Plus, who doesn't want a freezer full of soup in the middle of winter?
@Pearmelon - me too! Just had a few friends over (6, plus us two) tonight for an indoor picnic. Soup and gingerbread and the napa cabbage and apple slaw were done by the time the first people arrived, but I put out snacks only after the first guests arrived, and our youngest guest (8 years old) helped me put together cheese sandwiches to toast in the oven. Everyone served themselves what they wished, and a few people brought cookies for dessert. It was a lovely, informal, inexpensive meal.
I LOVE having people over (it helps that our house is perfect for entertaining) and love just as much feeding people, but I don't mind in the least that not everything is finished by the time the first people arrive. I also don't mind giving people who ask things to do with prep.
Of course, I'm also the foodie cook-expert in my group of friends, so I'm generally in charge of meals. Still, I never say no to help and like the congeniality in the kitchen.
I want to plan a pop up dinner with friends, but don't know where to start. Can anyone help? Send your ideas to sherristeiner@yahoo.com.
Thanks
The medieval book _Piers Plowman_ has a section lamenting the invention of the chimney. In the days when rooms were heated by a smoky public brazier, the lord and lady would eat in the hall, and any poor person could come in and petition them. When chimneys started heating rooms more efficiently, nobility started retiring in warm inner rooms, putting layers of mortar and men between them and the poor people they governed.
I love the idea of inviting four friends and having them bring a stranger. Sounds really fun! Great post.
I love the idea of a cooking "flash mob" but I bet it would not be popular with city authorities.
Our city hosts "community gatherings" every night of the week. These are free meals hosted by different churches around the city - our church does Monday nights. Everyone is welcome to come and eat for free. Lots of homeless people or low-income people come, but there other people do too, for the community aspect, for the neighborhood feel. The concept gets away from the soup-kitchen mentality. I myself have been on both sides of the serving line over the years. The warm feelings in the church basement are real and lovely.
Here in Chicago, we have a kind of communal food event called Soup and Bread: http://soupandbread.net/about-soup-and-bread/
This year (shortly after finishing the cure!), I'm also hosting an alumni dinner event at my house for several strangers. I've always wanted to host one—it's called Dinner for 12 Strangers, and it's something many universities organize/offer—but this year just decided to stop wondering and go for it.
That said, I think we connect with people through a variety of ways (if not flashmobs... yet)—via sites like this one, cooking blogs, at food swaps and at chili cook-offs, and in the backyards of extended families and friend groups.
I'm puzzled. Why is it being church-related awful? There's nothing wrong with religious people gathering for a meal.
Its not a flash mob, but a number of our friends often refer to ourselves as our 'village'. Sporadically and spontaneously, someone (usually our lovely, primary hostess) will send out a group text, 'Village breakfast, tomorrow at 8'. Everyone just grabs something to contribute, and often an unexpected guest or two. Its been fun, relationship enhancing, and (especially when guests come), enlightening. The next time our little Village breaks bread, I just might pose this question, and see what comes of it.
I've always wanted to do a flash mob dinner party at IKEA using one of their kitchen/dining areas to stage it and take photos of my friends and me eating and drinking. Of course, we'd offer to share with anyone who looked interested.