Limbic memory and savory yums.

There are many ways we get in touch with our past. Some of us take up knitting (me) or genealogy, meticulously regraft our family trees. And some of us borrow cook books and feast our way through the pages.

A familiar scent can call up memories so deep they lie in our limbic system; the very definition of "muscle memory". These limbic memories are why you never forget how to ride a bike, or why you keep reaching for the coffee pot by the stove, even though you moved it to the counter weeks ago. Scent fits like a key in a lock, sweep right past our conscious mind down to the deepest recesses of our nostalgia.

And perhaps even further. How do Monarch butterflies remember a mountain that hasn't existed for millennia, when no one generation of them makes the complete trip? Its in their genes. You know the saying, that something is so second nature to someone that its "in their blood"? That deep-as-marrow instinct that tells those Monarchs to divert inexplicably round an invisible mountain is the same heart warming (or heart sinking) feeling you get when you smell Lilac's, salty air off the ocean, or the spices aisle at your favorite grocery store. Its no wonder that the favorite way many of us connect to our past is in the kitchen, in those little four by five cards covered in swoopy handwriting and gravy stains.

But what if you don't have Grandma's recipe book? You'll have to start somewhere else.

"A Mediterranean Feast" by Clifford A. Wright is a big, dignified book with a beautiful red and gold spine. The Mister recently borrowed it from a co-worker in exchange for fresh pasta once a week, and he's cooking his way through.

Part One begins with the tantalizing title "An Algebra of Mediterranean Gastronomy" and sweeps us through the history of Mediterranean food, beginning with the Cabbage and a recipe for Minestrone di Cavolo, a.k.a. cabbage soup. "Make this soup, and the lessons of this chapter will be well digested" says Wright, and its the truth. Cabbage soup is super healing, specifically when it comes to the digestive tract, knitting up that lining, clearing the way so that we can get in touch with our "gut".

This soup, while simple, is perfect. This is the soup you want on a cold rainy day. Its hearty, and it lasts. Eat this for dinner on a chilly night, have it for lunch the next day, and maybe even the day after that.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy something delicious tonight. Treat yourself to some warm fuzzy nostalgia. Let those memories nourish you.

-A.H.