Good Life Project - Samin Nosrat | Crafting a Life That Nourishes You

Episode Date: January 5, 2026

Samin Nosrat on taking back your life, overcoming overwhelm, and redefining success. A candid conversation about joy, grief, rebellion, rest, food, and what actually sustains us when achievement isn��t enough.In this soul-stirring conversation about her new book "Good Things: Recipes and Rituals to Share with People You Love," the Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat creator offers a masterclass in how small rituals can become profound acts of love, and why letting go of striving might be the key to finding what we're all really hungry for.You can find Samin at: Website | Instagram | Home Cooking podcast | a grain of salt substack | Episode TranscriptIf you LOVED this episode, you’ll also love the conversations we had with Samin about her journey from anxiety and depression to finding joy through food, writing, and community at Chez Panisse. Her earlier visit also offers a wonderful complement to today's conversation.Check out our offerings & partners: Join My New Writing Project: Awake at the WheelVisit Our Sponsor Page For Great Resources & Discount Codes Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Hey, so my guest today is award-winning chef, writer, teacher, and gatherer of people, Samin Nosrat. She wrote the iconic book, Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat, and starred in the beloved Netflix series of the same name that really changed the way millions of people understand food. And now she's back with a new blockbuster book, Good Things, which celebrates the power of simple meals and shared tables and the essential role of community in a life well-lived. But our conversation, it's about something much bigger, life. Some highlights include a moment of unexpected rebellion that just cracked open a lifetime of swallowed emotion and sparked a new sense of self. Or a surprising truth about achievement that reveals why doing the quote right things can still leave you feeling just deeply empty and alone.

Or a subtle but powerful shift in how you think about time that can reshape the way you live and love and work and gather in a simple weekly ritual that becomes a lifeline back to connection, belonging, and. enjoy. These are just a few of the threads we explore, really in a conversation that feels tender and honest and human. It's about the quiet moments that shape us, the loud ones that shatter us, and the small, consistent acts that stish us back together. It's about letting yourself be seen and letting others in, and it's about reclaiming joy and meaning and presence in the most every day of ways. This conversation, it moves through life's big transitions, identity, fame, depression, friendship, weekly dinners, and the meaning of a good life and the healing power of sharing time and food and presence with people you cannot get enough of. It's wide open and intimate in the

most beautiful way. So excited to share it with you. I'm Jonathan Fields, and this is Good Life Project. Yeah, you know, excited I've in. I really loved talking to you last time. Yeah, I've learned since our last convo also that you and I have some kind of weird overlaps. Oh, cool. So out of the gate, I open up your gorgeous new book, and of course, it's gorgeous because it's you. Thank you. And I'm looking at the photo opposite the intro page. And it's this old blue notebook that's obviously really well used. And sitting on top of it is a Blackwing Palomino pencil.

Oh, I love them. And I'm like, okay, like that one choice says so much about who you are as a human being. And by the way, I'm holding up right now. This is, this is one of my. That's a special one. That's a volumes. Yeah, this is one of the, the, the shepherd fairy black, black, I love those pencils.

They're so good. There's something magical about them. I don't know why. I mean, they're just a delight in that like they look different and they feel so good, but also the lead is just a dream. Yeah. I kind of, at some point I was like, I know they're expensive, but I just can't have any other pencils. I'm the exact same way. All right, we've established that we're both nerds around writing and writing implements and things like that.

I was listening a little bit earlier this year, actually, to a conversation that you were having with your dear friend Rishi on this song Exploder podcast. And you were talking about a moment where you were on a visit to Vassar, potentially looking at it as a place to go. Friend invited you to this Ani DeFranco concert and you heard for the first time this song Untouchable Face that kind of changed your life and like let you feel deeply and expressly in a way that you hadn't a really long time. I actually had Ani on the podcast just over the summer. Amazing. And we were talking about how music can change people. One of her older songs I was listening to just before I sat down with her. And I was sharing how I was really hiking in

the mountains listening to this song. And I was, I was just weeping as I was walking. And I'm like, this song was not written for me or to me, but it was. There was something so powerful about it. Your story of how you were moved by this one song, it just really stuck with me. Um, Can you share a little bit about that moment and what led up to it? Yeah. So I'm the child of Iranian immigrants. And I, you know, I think one sort of fundamental thing that I learned as a young kid was do your homework, study, get into a good college. Like, that is the most important thing. And so I really took that to heart. And I did that. And I ended up at a really sort of like academically rigorous school and high school, which was just sort of sort of. of like made to send kids to, you know, high-end colleges and universities. And at some point I decided I wanted to go to Vassar. I had a friend who had gone there. I heard about it. It sort of became my dream school. And so I applied and I got in, you know, and this was this thing like

I'd been told, like, study, go to school. Like, that's the thing. So I sort of like held up my end of the bargain. And then as this sort of like date was approaching of the decision of to someplace to go, I think it was dawning on my family that I really wanted to leave. And my grandfather, like, in so many ways, I was this sort of like typical older immigrant child who had to like figure out a lot of things for myself. And so a lot, everything about applying for college and what college to go to, I was just, you know, it was not family guidance that was getting me there. It was curiosity at school and asking teachers and friends. And so I think finally they were like, oh, oh, she's going to leave.

And that's not okay, like with our family culture and our values. And so my grandfather told my dad, like, you have to tell her she can't go. And so we went on this. There was sort of like a, I was like, well, we got to go see the school. My dad took me to visit Vassar. And he dropped me off and I stayed with my friend. and she was like, oh, we're going to go to this concert tonight. And I was like, okay, whatever.

And so it was this person, Ani DeFranco was singing, who I didn't, I wasn't familiar with. I didn't know. And here I just felt like, ooh, I'm on a college campus. And so we go to this concert. I'm not familiar with this music at all. And then at some point, probably either, I think toward the end, I'm guessing toward the end, she starts playing this song, Untouchable Face. And I'm sort of, I don't know the word.

So I'm just sort of like trying to pay attention and everyone starts singing along and there's a point where she says fuck you and your untouchable face. And that just felt so like transgressive. Because here I was just this like goody two shoes like following the rules pleasing all adults. You know, I was like what? We're in a chapel and she's saying fuck you. You know, like but it was just like the room filled with this energy. And so it sort of became like the anthem. of this trip, which sort of soured. The trip sort of soured. And like, while I had a really nice time with my friend and I sort of was spent the whole weekend envisioning myself there, you know, unbeknownst to me, my dad was sort of collecting things to use, like, against the school as an argument. And so that when we returned, he was like, no, no, no, this place is far too liberal. Like, you need to stay home and go to UCSD. And I kind of knew inside that if I did that, there was just something in me that I was like, I'll die. I'll die. Like, maybe not. really, but like something inside of me will die. And I knew I had to get out. And so there was just this

very long ongoing family schism, I guess, that happened over where I was going to go to school, which I know on the one hand sounds so privileged and like crazy to have this sort of meltdown about like which top tier school you're going to go to. But it also was the only thing that I had been told to do and like my whole existence had been about fulfilling this thing I'd been told to do when I was doing it. And then at the last second like family members who like had really not been very interested or like curious about anything about my academic life, like all of a sudden we're then going to take that away from me. And it just felt like so threatening and so scary and ultimately led to like an estrangement with my dad for the rest of my life. And so there was

just this way that the song, I never said anything bad. I only did good things. You know, like, and there was this like bad word in a song. And I was sort of discovering my own capacity for anger and resentment at my parents, who to me I had only ever listened to and obeyed and tried to please. And so there was a way where this song became representative of that moment and also sort of that like ongoing sort of like period of young adulthood in my life. It was a real shift for me. But I think a big part of it was like a discovery of this part of myself that I didn't know I had. Yeah. It's like, oh, there's this feeling that sometimes probably rises to the level of rage inside that's like, I've done everything right. I've checked all the boxes. Like, you know,

Like, everything that's been asked of me, I've done. And I got the thing at the end of it that I was supposed to, that was supposed to be the reward. And now it's not being offered to me. And it was like, this moment in you, where you're just like, this is not okay. Yeah, it was such a, it felt such a betrayal, you know, and the song was just such a beautiful. Right. It's like, I can express this. Like, I can feel it and then I can actually let it out.

Like, that's real. It's raw. I have so many of us, I think, have like, those moments. Here's a bigger curiosity around this also. So fast forward, right? Like years go by, you know, like Berkeley, you're like going to the world of food, this stunning phenomenon, salt, fat acid, heat comes out seven, eight years ago. You end up creating something that I'm going to make the analogy,

you might be uncomfortable with it, that like Ani, went out into the world and actually changed, touched millions of people's lives too, or at least brought, you know, moments of joy and deep connection. And I would imagine for a lot of people reconnection to people, to people that maybe they were estranged from back into their lives. As that was happening, and I asked Ani this question. I was like, how did it feel to be somebody who creates work that does that? And she was just kind of like, in a way, it's like it wasn't me.

I'm curious what your experience was of being behind a phenomenon that landed with people, that move people like that. Yeah, I agree with that. I think I have sort of two parts of it. One is I made a book, I made this thing, and I put it out in the world. And I always was pretty clear once I put it out in the world, it wasn't mine anymore. And in some ways, I now feel very distant from it, you know? Like, I just look at the book and I'm like, oh, interesting. Like, it's nice that it's a physical thing that I can look at, that I made, that I can have sort of a material relationship to, you know?

Because I can really let go of it in that way. but also there's then the part where there's almost like some sort of like synecdochie or something that happens in people's minds where they conflate me with the thing and I'm sure that that in large part happened because then there was a television show around the world that they could see me and get to know me or or feel like they got to know me and so then I become this like you know symbol for salt fat acid heat which is like I'm very aware that my name name. People know salt, fat, acid heat, way more than they know my name. And I like that. I don't want them. I don't need everyone to know my name. So I am like a piece of this bigger thing, but there's a lot that gets projected on to me by people and that it has been hard for me and is complicated and, yeah, I've really struggled with, partly because, like, I want to offer people what it is that they want from me. You know, I want to give them joy. I want to give them a moment of connection when they like stop me on the street or see me or are having a great like excitement when they like run into me

in a store or something. But I also am like a person having my own experience of my, in my body and in my life and in my head. And it's not always aligned with like being able to do that for people. Because I, it also costs a lot for me. And so that has been a big. struggle is sort of the, yeah, becoming the symbol of the thing. Yeah. I think for anybody who puts work into the world that in some way touches other people, and maybe some people are totally fine with it. Maybe some people would just like bring it on. Like I am the thing and like the more direct the channel, the better. I'm more like you. Like I've never been like, I'm like, I love to create things that go into the world and the thing becomes the source of whatever it is.

Like I don't even care if anyone knows my name. I would almost rather like they don't. so I can just kind of live in a cave. I'm just, it's never been about that. And you had this moment where you, it wasn't just the book that was the thing, you as a human being, where they think your life, your lens,

the way that you showed up was the thing. When we last talked, you know, this was... Had the show come out or had the book come out when I talked to you? I think the show had come out. So this was like late 2018, if I remember correctly, right?

So the show is probably pretty recently on air. So that brought a level of, of just exposure to you as a person on a whole different way. And back then, you actually mentioned to me heading out to a cabin in the desert away from everyone, just kind of get your bearings back and figure out what you wanted with this torrent of attention coming at you. I wrote down actually what I was just listening to. I wrote down, you said, I realize I'm not in a place to say yes or no to anything.

So I'm just putting a hold on any decision making until I have quiet time to figure out what makes any sense to do. I know if I don't decide to do something because I care about it in my heart, I will be miserable. I'm in the opposite place now where I'm like, I just want to say no to everything. Yeah. I mean, I've been curious about that. Like, did you take that space?

And we'll talk about some of the stuff that's unfolded in the intervening years also. But like, I felt like when we talked last time, you were in this window where you're like, my head is spinning. They're astonishing things happening. I mean, you know, coming, you use a word coming at me. Yes, it was all coming at me. Right. You know, and on the one hand, it's like, what an incredible blessing.

How can I not just like acknowledge that? And the other hand, you're like, how do I live through this? What was sort of like the immediate future after that like for you? I did go to the cabin in the desert and then I invited press there. Like there was a way where, I mean, not for, not the whole time, but there was a one, one thing. I let come there, you know, and I'm like, where did I do that? There was just, I'm not so good with the boundaries. I'm getting better, but like, I also, yeah, it's interesting to hear that I said it that way, that I, I needed the quiet because I didn't want to miss something good.

Yeah. Whereas now I'm like, I need the quiet because I need to make space for whatever it is that I want to do, right? Like, because there's a big difference. Yeah, like, I need, and I also just need, I need rest. I came home I basically since August have been to nearly 30 cities and I came home

like a little over a week ago and I also was sick by the time you know you get worn down and so I was just so exhausted and so sick just like physically my ankle was sprained like everything falling apart and I was like I don't want to do anything

there's all these things I like there are a few things I sort of have to do next year and I'm like cancel that I'm like just end the substack quit everything like don't I don't want to do anything and as I like you know my sinus infection has sort of like gone down I'm a little better now I'm like okay maybe I don't like that's not the best place to make decisions from but I'm just I have the opposite feeling now of if I say yes to things that are not like truly truly coming from deep inside of me I will regret it and in a way

that was part of why making the second book was so complicated and hard for me, was that on the one hand, like, I did want to make a second book and I had a good idea. And on the other hand, I very much felt the pressure of the strike while the iron is hot and sell this idea right now. And so I did do that. Actually, I worked on that book proposal in the desert. And I thought I was taking time because it was almost two years since salt, fat, acid heat had. come out but it wasn't enough quiet time to get really really clear inside of myself it's very scary i live in such a we all live in such a like production focused world and like you know the forces of capitalism just are so intense even if you're try to be aware of them and on some of us more than others there's just that like pressure often from inside to produce and make and i i I really have that. And so it's been hard for me to be like, I'm just going to have some fallow time, which the world and my life sort of forced me into, regardless of whether or not I was going to do it. I mean, not only the pandemic, but then I sort of had an extended period of like grieving. And then my, I had another sort of extended period of my dad dying and then like the sort of aftermath of that. So there was a lot of ways in which like the circumstances of my life forced me to stop working. I just couldn't. I like just physically and emotionally, I like wasn't able to. So, um, but how nice would it be to make that a conscious choice and decide to take some downtime

rather than to like be forced into it? Yeah. And I think so many of us, like we don't actually do that until we're brought to our knees by something outside of us or something that's a blend of inside and outside. We're like, oh, like I'm now, I guess I have to listen because I actually can't do anything but that. I often wondered why it takes that, you know. We both sat down with so many people who were studied and you know, like deeply philosophical, theological,

and they know all the things. It's one thing to know. It's another thing to practice. It really is. Yeah. You know, it's a different thing, especially when you have, you know, and as you described, like, your whole upbringing, you sort of like you were brought up with a certain ethos, you know, and then you take that and you bundle it with, hey,

something astonishing has just happened to you that happens to almost nobody. The window is probably only going to be open for a short amount of time. Take advantage of everything you can while it's open. And meanwhile, like, there's a voice inside of you saying, that might kill me. Yeah. Yeah. You know, and like you've got to battle that and it's a fraught place to be. Yeah. And there's a whole other layer of I'm sort of internally going through this thing while externally the world is sort of observing me be a capital. but I'll ask success. And I'm getting all of the sort of attention and praise and trappings of that that in many ways I'd always wanted that wouldn't anyone want. And certainly that

most of my friends who are writers and other types of artists and creative people would give anything to have. So it felt really complicated to have a tortured relationship to it. And it still does. Like I don't want to come off like I'm complaining. I'm so grateful for it. And the other thing I didn't get to say when you asked about, like, how do I feel about having made this thing and the people's response to it? Like, some of the best moments, like, it's, I don't have the ability to sit back and look at, like, what I've done for the world and, like, think about it in a, in a sort of zoom out 30,000. I can't do that. I, that would not be good for my mind or my ego or anything. But there are these little glimpses and these little moments. that I get to have when people come up to me and I'm in a receptive place and especially when it's like any sort of type of like marginalized person who often says something about like what not only the work has meant to them but seeing me has meant to them and that often is like the most sort of fulfilling part like thing response type of response that I can have and

and gives me the best feeling about like, wow, this feels really good because I know I didn't get to see somebody like me for my whole life. And so that's something I'm really proud of is that I get to be visible for people who don't feel seen. Yeah. I mean, and part of me wonders at the same time. Like, I hear that and like, that must feel really incredible inside. I wonder if there's another voice that sometimes accompanies that, that says, especially for like, as you described, Like, if you start to become seen as the model representative or a marginalized person, is there a sense of responsibility that then you step into, well, I've got to behave in a certain way. I've got to show up in a certain way because now people are looking to me to see, like, how to stand in this moment, what's possible and what if I fall. Yeah, I definitely feel that.

I feel that just in tiny ways. like I basically put on a cloak when I leave my home, like some sort of protective cloak of like not only like my energy force field, but also just I kind of know there's like a subconscious sort of like switch that clicks of like I don't know. You can't throw a tantrum in public. You can't be grumpy at the coffee store. Like you can't I can't cut people off in traffic. Not that I'm always trying to do or whatever. But like you sort of I just am very aware. that it means something, you know, like my girlfriend and I will be driving, and she's always like, you drive like a grandma. And I was like, and she's like, make a U-turn, take that parking spot. And I was like, oh, no, no, no. I was like, I can't do that. Like, I can't make an illegal you turn in the middle of the street. Like, someone will see me. I was like, no, no, no. There's just a sense that I can't do that. I can't be that way, which I'm like, it's not an unfamiliar sense to me. It's just amplified.

Yeah. And we'll be right back after a word from our sponsors. So the pandemic hits, as you shared, you know, your dad also drops into illness and eventually passes. And kind of like through weaving through like the same season-ish, you also start to realize that there's, you're looking back at your life, especially your very early life and realizing there's, there's a lot of anger in the house and there is a lot of probably grief that you didn't realize for an older sister that had died very young when you were, didn't really have any memories as an adult, but you're starting to realize. maybe actually there was something there for me that I'm just not processed. So there's like this soup of disruption, grief, and loss that's just like perpetually being stirred with you. And then, you know, the pandemic kind of like makes it hard to process and be with people during this whole thing.

For you, it sounds like making, like working with food and with raw materials, has always been such a place of sanctuary and salvation, especially being able to actually do that with others that you love. But this was a time where it sounds like it was harder to do that. I mean, due to the Depression, I lost my appetite. I lost my own interest in cooking. And the cooking has largely been a way for me to connect with friends. It's often, and through most of my life, in like really social work, you know, like just you go to work and you cook with other cooks and you talk and you see what they're doing and there's like sort of inspiration but also just like fun and collegiality. So that, you know, I didn't have and I was just so lonely. I was so lonely

in all of the ways and, you know, I love that your show is called Good Life Project because that was sort of became, in a way, like, that could have been the title for what I was doing, was I was trying to orient myself. I kind of got this clarity. I was like, I spent my whole life trying to achieve because on some level I believed that achieving and producing would lead to happiness, it would make my parents happy, it would make me happy, it would fill this like deep hole in my heart and like I would no longer feel this like deep sense of loneliness and sadness that is, I've always thought of sort of as my oldest friend. And I'm therapist enough to know like that's not, it was not my, it was not a conscious thing that was driving me.

But once I did get all the achievement and I was lonelier and sadder than ever, it sort of forced me to acknowledge that I had had that flawed thinking all along. And before the pandemic, probably around the time I was coming to New York, probably around the time I saw you, one of my friends Greta had moved back to New York from California and she had just started having these weekly dinners. And she, like, fell in love and found a new partner who's really thoughtful person, one of them, like, smartest and most thoughtful people I know. And he, in so many ways, also has, like, all these trappings of success. And also is just one of the most sort of, like, spiritual, careful people I know. And so there was a way, whenever I meet someone who just, like, is, has somehow done things differently and is, like, doing something so. interesting. And I'm always so curious, like, how they became them. I'm sure this is, like, the entire premise of your whole show, right? Basically, yeah. It's 14 years.

You're like, you're like, what happened in your life? Who did you, you know, like, was it your parents? Is there something in you? Like, how did this happen? And so I, like, I just started having so many conversations with these two friends. And a big question I found themselves, them asking themselves was, like, what is a good life? Like, what's the life that we want to build? And some of that was sort of being coming manifest through these weekly dinners, but also I think just in other ways of the choices that they were making. And it's interesting, you know, to see people who from the outside appear like they have at all to still be like really grappling with this. And to me, that was like a really just hopeful thing. And so I got into these sort of conversations and that became this question that I just started asking myself. It's like, what does. a good life because I had not had financial stability. I had not had support systems. I had not had, I don't know, recognition for my work. And then I kind of got recognition and I got financial

stability and I always, when I didn't have it, I thought if I had that, I would feel okay. And then I had that and didn't solve the problem. And so I was like, okay, well, clearly there's some flaw in my thinking. So I need to figure out what I can orient myself. toward how do I answer this question and so that really became this thing I just would sort of like ask myself in all these different ways and in some ways has become the barometer by which I can make other decisions of like do I want to do this thing will that take me closer or further away from a good life you know but like yeah just trying to sit with like what is a good life really became the sort of driver of my life in that time yeah um

It's one of those questions that I think a lot of us ask in passing. You know, obviously for me, it's become a bit of an obsession for a long time. And I'm always like, like you, I'm always kind of like, if I see somebody and like there's just a twink and you're like, they've figured something out. I don't care if you're famous. I don't care if you know, like nobody knows you at all. It's just like oftentimes it's the quietest, most unknown people that I bump into and you're like, oh, there's something that they know that I want to know, that they figured out.

And it is amazing to sort of just be in the question. There isn't one universal answer for what I've found, you know, but there are a lot of universal themes that people get back to. For you, it seems like being with friends, being in community has always been something just critically important for you, which I'm curious now also about, because when you're at that moment a couple years earlier where you're like, everything's spinning around. I need to be able to actually touch stone again and make really good decisions. It sounds like your choice was solitude rather than community. You're like something

and you said, I need solitude now, not people, in order to find the clarity that I need, which seems like it was different than it was in the past. I also think like that was one step in a larger sort of acknowledgement to myself that I think I had confused being around people with being in community or being close to people. And so, um, yeah, big difference. Yeah, like I had, and it's, it's so complicated, right? Like, there's not a clear, there's not one thing. But I, I, I, I've always been a very sort of social person. And I mean, I also have a huge part of me that needs to be alone. But yeah, I don't want to just be a hermit all the time, you know? And I historically have been like incredibly extroverted. And I think wanting to be part of something. I've wanted to,

I've always felt outside and trying to find my way inside and be part of something. And whether that word could be a family or a community or a group or whatever. Like I just always, I'm like, I've been like, how do I get inside the thing I feel outside of? Like, I want to be in with, in with. And I have like tried and failed many, many, many times for many reasons. Like, but I think when I started cooking, there was a way where I, that desperate part of me that just wanted to, like, be invited to the party or be part of the group or the celebration. Recognized, now I have a tool. I, because, like, I don't have to wait to be invited to the party because now I'm the

cook and I can throw the party. And if I throw the party, by definition, I'm invited. And so there was a way where, like, I confused for very long time the, like, being at the party with being like genuinely like rooted in relationship with people do you know what I mean like yeah and it was not like ill-spirited or out of manipulation it was like a desperate like baby part of me trying to belong you know like it was just a way it was like a survival tool but I didn't understand that like just because I got to go to the thing that everyone else was going to or whatever. That was not like solving that sense of loneliness. That wasn't solving this thing that

was plaguing me. And so in some ways, then when the show came out and I got all the invitations and all the attention, it was so much that I sort of short-circuited. And I did have a sense that I needed to go be very quiet and very alone, just to try to reorient myself and reground myself. I just needed some quiet time to quiet my nervous system because it was just too much coming at me. No, that all makes sense. I mean, what you're describing, it's, I think so many of us have felt that, you know, it's like the difference between being invited and being beloved, being celebrated, being like actually... Connected. Yeah.

Yeah. Like people genuinely wanting you there not just because there's a purpose, but actually, like, they're just like your presence. They want to be around you and you want to be around them. It's a very different thing. Like I think a lot of us, like, oh, I wish I was invited to this. Why am I not getting like all the invites? And it's like, it's not about being in the room. You know, it's about feeling. It could actually feel so lonely. So lonely. It's got feeling deeply connected to even three people. And there's such a huge. difference. This is a thing that also, it reaves in so many different ways through the new book, through good things, you know, this sense of being connected to people, through food, through hospitality, through hosting, through sharing time together. And even the weekly dinners that you've referenced, you know, and I feel like a lot of people don't know how to do that, how to step into the role of gathering people. They're all, like you were describing, they're kind of waiting for the imitations. And in no small way, I feel like this new work is kind of an, it's a permission

slip to people to say, you don't have to wait. Like, here's a little bit of a field guide for you to be able to actually feel comfortable gathering people on your own. Like, you get to choose, invite your deep, deep friends, your chosen family, just come play, come talk, come eat food together, come make food together. And if you don't know how, which I think a lot of people don't, So they resist doing that. You're kind of like, I've got something for you. Was that part of the intention? Yeah.

I mean, this book came together in such a funny way. Like I said, I had a totally different idea and went through a few different sort of versions before it became this. And it only became this like in the making because I was in the real time sort of finding myself again and coming back to myself. And a big part of that was just having these really casual dinners with my friends who at the time were not like my closest friends by any means. But I think the like continued proximity has sort of like enabled an intimacy. And of course we had a relationship. It wasn't they were not strangers. But it just wasn't necessarily who I would have thought that I would make something like this with.

And that's also been kind of beautiful that like that perfectionist part of me drove me for so long to be like try and plan and orchestrate the best possible version of a weekly dinner and the who would be in it and all of that kind of stuff. And then I would sort of collapse under the pressure of it or just knowing like I could never make that a reality for a variety of reasons. And then this one sort of appeared and we just stuck with it. And it has. really shifted something in all of our lives. And at first I thought it was just me, but, you know, I think we can agree, we all sort of joke, we agree. It's our version of church, you know, like it's our holy place. And that feels special. And I wanted to offer that in the way that, like, I read a lot and thought a lot about gifts when I was, or just the idea of the gift, you know, I read the gift also while I was writing this book. And part of that was, because I, by the way, if nobody's read that Lewis Hyde's book, The Gift, you've got to read it. It's so beautiful. Yeah. So beautiful. And the other book that was like really thoughtful about the idea of the gift was the breeding sweetgrass and sort of native concepts. Amazing. Yeah. Of the gift. And so I thought about that a lot because I sort of notoriously have a complicated relationship with recipes. And I was trying so hard to figure out how. to justify, like, my relationship to them, but then the fact that I made a book of recipes

after telling you, like, here's a way to cook without recipes for the rest of your life. Just for context, was following along, self-fat acid heat was basically, like, the fundamental message was the only recipe, like, understand these four different qualities of flavor, and once you understand that, you can make anything. Yeah, and so then, like, yeah, I felt like a real hypocrite when I was like, I guess I will write a recipe book. And so I just turned the word recipe over and over and over in my head and was trying to figure out, like, how do I sort of come to peace with this myself, let alone, like, justify this for other people. And at some point, I looked up the etymology of the word. And, you know, a recipe before it related to food was a word that doctors, basically it was like a prescription.

And so, and it's the infinitive, or the imperative form of the word, like, to give or like, yeah, and so a receipt, like, it's like, so what it read cheap, at the top, a pharmacist would write or a doctor would write. It would mean, like, here, take this. And so I sort of kept thinking about that. I was like, oh, like, that's kind of the sentiment that I wrote salt fat acid eat. It was like, here, take this. And in a weird way, I was like, oh, that's how I can think of a recipe is like, here, take this. It's like, I'm giving this to you. And when I give you something, it's no longer mine anymore. It's yours to do with as you wish. And so there was an idea, like that idea of I was trying to make something that I knew would not be mine once I made it and that would be a gift. And that felt like a really important thing to give to people was just a glimpse at this part of my life that has been really profoundly important and moving and maybe could be for you too. And I do know that it can feel really overwhelming and intimidating to try to set up something like this and commit to something like this. I have tried to and failed many times over the last 20 years. And so there were ways that we did it that I wouldn't

have necessarily done if I were planning it or setting out with my own, like, you know, spreadsheet that have actually ended up being really helpful. And so, those were things that I wanted to offer to people. But what's interesting too is like you spend all this time making a book and you're really in your own head, right? Like you're only a very few people sort of see it and you talk to them about it. And then it comes out in the world and you get to have a whole new relationship to it because now people are bringing you questions and feedback and interpreting and receiving in ways you didn't know were possible. And so there are just things like I've gotten so many questions about how to do that. I've gotten so many people's

stories about their weekly things that they have been doing or have started doing. And that's, that's really wonderful. But I also just, you, I realize like, it could be so simple. You know, there was this great photographer in New Orleans who was like a huge sort of community hub person. He was the kind of person like everybody knew, you know. His name was Pablo Johnson, I think, and he passed away a few years ago, but he, I met him once, and that was enough to garner an invitation to his Sunday, like, Red Beads and Rice. There was just, like, everyone in Orleans knew, like, you go to Pablo's house for Red Beans and Rice on Sundays. And so, I'm like, that's not fancy. It's just that it's consistent and that there's enough for everyone, right?

Like, that's all it needs to be is, like, the consistency and the invitation. And I love that part of it. You know, because I think we do get in our heads so much. We're like, oh, if I'm going to have friends over, I'm going to have people over for dinner or brunch or whatever to me, we've got to have the perfect spread. We've got like perfectionism sneaks into every part of our lives. And I mean, food media amplifies that. Like, we're just like the world amplifies that. And I know I'm like, I can't help but be part of that too, even though I'm trying so hard to not be.

Like, you make a cookbook, you put pictures of the food, people want their food to look like the picture. But also it's like, how else am I going to communicate stuff? I don't know. And we'll be right back after a word from our sponsors. But what I think also you do a beautiful job of in like throughout good things is this notion of saying, I'm also going to try and keep this as simple and accessible as possible. Like, you probably have a whole bunch of stuff in your pantry already. You know, like you don't have to go to the busiest shop in town and get the most exotic ingredients.

You can if you want to. If it's just fun for you, awesome. have at it, you know, but we all have a lot of stuff. And, and it's really sort of like the idea of, you know, there's, like, the food is, it's like, it's the canvas, you know, but, and you want a nice canvas and you want to paint a little something nice on it, but, you know, it's like, you want to bring everyone together to make the picture, to make the image, to make, like, and that's, that's, that's the people, it's the conversation, it's the love that unfolds around it.

And, you know, like, no art is perfect. Like, the most moving pieces of art you've ever seen are not the ones with the straightest lines and, like, the most realistic things. You know, like, it's the one that makes you feel. And I feel like that's a lot of the focus. What I'm seeing is, like, you don't have to go overboard here. Don't worry about being perfect. Just do something that feels, you know, and brings people together. And, like, and let that be where the magic really unfolds around this.

There's something you're saying that it's, like, clicking something for me. which is the thing that like the art makes you feel and that because I often like think about at a meal like the meals that have been the most sort of memorable to me are I don't I generally don't remember what I ate it's like what happened and you know how I felt at the table and I often I have I have a really interesting sort of memory like I can remember certain things super clearly and specifically, especially from like books that I've read or movies or anything that I have felt like really moved by. But often I completely forget entire plots and characters and I just remember that something, I loved something so much because it made me feel

something. Yes. It's like something magical happened. And so there's a way where like I often, yeah, it's like I, you know, I could be like, oh my God, this book, it was so good. I have no idea what happened. I just remember, like, I loved Northwoods, you know, like, I hold on to that feeling. And I feel like that's essentially what I'm trying to say about the table, too, is like, just make space for that feeling. Because that feeling is way more important than whether or not you have, like, the perfect mozzarella, you know, or whatever. Yeah. Yeah. I mean, that makes so much sense to me. And I think it resonates with so many people. It just makes it so much more easy for someone to say, I can do this.

this. And you do, like, you do get very specific guidance and directions. You know, like, you talk about condiments and dressings and all the different things. But one of the other things that, so for somebody who's looking for actually specific guidance, it's in there. But there's also, there's a really juicy philosophical subtext of the whole thing, which kind of says, just exhale, man. And I'm telling that as much. It's not having, right. It's like if you're not having fun along the way, something's wrong. And I'm like, as much. And I'm like, as much. I'm saying that to myself as I am to you. Like it's it's a reminder to my own self like I don't everything doesn't have to be the most and so much of it was just a coming back to like basically

I had to have like a little mantra of like whatever you are is enough like whatever is showing up is enough which is not historically has been true for me but like I had to in some ways believe that for myself to be able to make the book, and that's also what I'm trying to model for you and communicate to you that that's enough too. And there, you know, I don't know, like, you could have a totally good dinner of just grilled cheese sandwiches. Like, I was literally you're thinking about that. Like, I'm sure you've seen the movie chef, you know, like with, and there's that scene where he's just making a grilled cheese sandwich. Yeah. You know, and I'm like, my mouth is, and I'm like, this is stunningly gourd. It is the simplest thing.

and you get that anything can have like beauty and and just they're then love just oozing from it it doesn't complexity it's not about how fancy or complex it is you know the most basic stuff I think it's years ago I was I was talking to somebody about making instruments a luthier and they were like yeah you can feel the maker's heart like I was like what makes a great instrument and they're like you can feel the maker's heart through the instrument And I feel like it's the same thing with food. Like you can feel that and that's so much more important

than how complex or, yes, a beautifully plated dish is awesome. It's like a work of art to look at. And so is a grilled cheese that was made with love. Totally. One of the thing I wanted to add touch base on,

you also, you explore the notion of time in the book. And, you know, we live in this culture where everything has to happen so quickly and it's instant, instant, instant. And it's like, There's a certain grace that happens when you actually just let time unfold. And even, you know, like, bread has to rise.

You know, there's certain ingredients that you work with. Like, there's no way to rush certain things, and it forces us to stop and slow down. Even when, like, I'm generally the cook in our house and when we have friends over for dinner, I kind of like it when we're not ready to serve them when they get there. I kind of like it when we're all got to hang out in the kitchen for an hour or something for it. and it's just going to take some time, and that's part of the experience. Talk to me a little bit more just about this notion of cooking as a metaphor for building time into our lives. Well, like I said, when I was so depressed, I was really sort of reexamining so much about what I'm doing, what my own

relationship to cooking and eating is. Like, I was like, do I even really need to write another book? Like, I already told you everything I know in the one book. You know, there was just a sort of like, there wasn't a sense of meaning, or I couldn't identify the why for myself. Yeah, why am I doing this? And what is the meaning here? And sort of separately, I, as I was turning over this question of what is a good life and beginning to have these weekly dinners, my friend gave me this book, The Sabbath,

which is like a small little book by a rabbi philosopher named Abraham Joshua Heschel. And it really sort of, I mean, my friend gave it to me to sort of help me think about the role of these weekly dinners in my life and the meaning of them. And in that book, Abraham Joshua Heschel writes about Judaism being a religion, not of like space and material things, but of time. And that the Sabbath is sort of one of these like foundational practices inside of the religion because you're carving out, he calls it a palace in time, I think, or cathedral in time. And that, I just kept thinking about that, like the meaning of time. in our lives and like and then simul and then sort of shortly after i'm sitting there with thinking about all this then my dad dies in this really sort of prolonged and really melodramatic and complicated and chaotic way that causes so much suffering and pain not only for everyone around him

but also for himself which was just my dad was a complicated and quite dangerous person honestly But I don't feel like anyone deserves, like, undue suffering. And I did spend those last several months at his bedside, partly because he was incapacitated and, hence, like, couldn't hurt me in the way that he had. But also it was an opportunity to try to, like, talk through some things and get some closure. And witnessing this person die in this really, like, chaotic pain. painful, suffering-filled, like ultimately very lonely way was really instructive for me, because I just kept thinking, like, how sad. How sad. Like, this is what he sowed, you know, like, he

sowed the seeds for this and it's coming back for him now. And, like, this is the saddest thing I can think of, like the most pathetic. And I say that, like, pathetic way. to end a life. And it really made me think about like, what do I want to think about and reflect back on and look back on when I'm in that position, when I'm dying? Like, I want to be able to look back and be like, I made a life like full of creativity and friendship and love and nature and puppies and friends, you know, and good food. And like, that's what I want. But if I want that, like, I have to start doing that now. I have to make sure, like, every choice I make now. is going into that because I just, I think, yeah, it's very cliche to like watch someone die and then like realize your own mortality. But, but that's really what happened. And like, I just was like, oh, I've had this sense my whole life that if I work hard enough and am capital G good enough and do good enough or do enough good that that will like earn me some points in some invisible. I don't know, metric by some invisible force. And at some point, then I will be rewarded with like security and happiness because I did enough. I did it enough. But then now I was like all of a sudden being like, wait a minute. There's no guarantee. Like where's like what's this invisible

force? Like what's the number I'm trying to reach? You know, like why I'm basically like depositing into some bank account that's like a bottomless pit and I will never be able like, I just was like, I have to start withdrawing now. I have to start, like, having, taking advantage of, like, every day and what I have. And I really, in some ways, have majorly shifted certain things. And now I, like, do say yes. And I do go on the trip. And I do take the opportunity in a way that, like, historically, I've just self-flagellated and put my head down and worked. And so that was such a sort of huge shift for me in, like, the, like, the bottom. on a cellular level. And I, that it became the driving thing of my life was this idea of like time as my most valuable and precious currency. And so if it's my most precious thing, then sharing it with someone is actually like the most beautiful thing I can do.

And for me in my life and for many people, I think, like a very simple way on a daily basis that I can share that time or express my love through an investment of time is by cooking for you or by eating with you. And so that sort of became the way I understood the value of cooking for me. And I have come to understand it in my own life. It's like it's not about me like innovating and creating and being like whatever. It's about like this, you know, when I, And maybe it's so sappy, but like I try to cook for people like whatever it is that they would like most on their birthdays. And so that's often an opportunity for me to really spend like a day or longer like thinking about you while I'm making this thing for you. And I'm like truly thinking about you and pouring like this good energy and this love into this food. And can you taste it? I don't know. Yes, probably. But it's more that like it's. I'm actually just giving you a piece of myself. Yeah.

But you're also saying, in doing that, you're saying to that friend, I know you. Like, I've been paying attention. I see you. And that is, like, that is, and so it's like, whatever you cook for them, sure, it's yummy. It's going to have your love in it. And it'll be a, you know, a savory experience in the moment. You know, it's something. But, like, underneath all that is this, like, you know, the subtext is, I see you.

I know you I acknowledge you That is so rare In today's world I feel like we are just so desperate To be seen And that's the thing We all want the facade

Yeah totally Yeah It feels a good place for us To come full circle as well You've kind of answered my last question But I'm going to ask it more fully again So in this container

Of Good Life project If I offer up the phrase To live a good life What comes up? Like taking care of the people around me, allowing them to take care of me, taking care of the environment, you know, like doing my best to like feel totally present on any given day in any given moment and like appreciate what's there, like taking in art, making art, hugging my puppy. Yeah, being, trying to just, like, feel the fullness of my humanity. Thank you. Thank you.

Hey, before you leave, if you love this conversation, you'll also love the conversation we had with Samin about her journey from anxiety and depression to finding joy through food, writing, and community at Chez Panisse. Her earlier visit also offers a wonderful compliment to today's conversation. You can find a link to that episode and the show notes. This episode of Good Life Project was produced by executive producers Lindsay Fox and me, Jonathan Fields. Editing help by Alejandro Ramirez and Troy Young, Christopher Carter crafted our theme music. And of course, if you haven't already done so, please go ahead and follow Good Life Project in your favorite listening app or on YouTube too.

If you found this conversation interesting or valuable and inspiring, chances are you did because you're still listening here. Do me a personal favor. A seventh-second favor. Share it with just one person. I mean, if you want to share it with more, that's awesome too, but just one person even. Then invite them to talk with you about what you've both discovered, to reconnect and explore ideas that really matter, because that's how we all come alive together. Until next time, I'm Jonathan Fields, signing off for Good Life Project.