I would like to reclaim the word foody for my own honorable and unpretentious use, cleanse it of its pretension and expense, and fill it full of the wild delight in scent and flavor and situation that animates me when I think about the things that nourish me. And I mean brown bread and cheese and avocados, fresh mangoes and cold white wine in summer, steamed mussels dipped in butter and a thousand other things to sing along the tongue -- but I also mean the things that I use to feed myself when I am financially or spiritually or emotionally broke, the ways I staunch my other hungers: lust, and longing, and loneliness, and loss. I mean to make myself a lexicon of the fulfilling: I would like to share my talismans, my ways of feeling full in every sense -- full of good food, strong love, and the overflowing shining bounty of the world. I think compassion, gratitude, appreciation and a healthy sense of irony should be stored in small glass bottles in the spice cabinet you keep in the kitchen of your heart. I think recipes and amulets work the same kind of magic. I will give you what I have.