Does Love actually make food taste better? We joke about that extra ingredient, TLC, but could there be scientific truth to it?
A few weeks ago, my dear friend, Kathie Swift (Dietitian Extraordinaire and author of The Swift Diet), shared a story with me about a colleague who “could taste trouble in the kitchen.”
“Yes,” she said. “I knew there was a lot of fighting happening at this restaurant, but they kept very quiet about it. While eating lunch with my friend, he looked at me and said, ‘Something isn’t right in the kitchen.’”
She laughed out loud with me because she knew he was spot on. And Kathie being Kathie, just smiled; appreciating the intuitive nature of people, and, also, food.
I had to digest her story a bit. I knew it would impact me beyond that moment because I recognized the truth in what she was saying. Our thoughts, words, energy -- all of it -- can change the molecular structure of food.
Walking away from Kathie, I recalled another time when a Reiki master friend said she could tell whether a vegetable was organic just by its vibration of energy. “I see it in the produce section,” she claimed. “The organic fruits and vegetables vibrate at a much higher frequency. The conventional ones have little to no life energy in comparison.”
Say what?
I considered this "vibrational energy of food," and how it can be impacted.
I grew obsessed, and needed to prove that there is truth that the energy we convey while planting or preparing food could transform food’s molecular nature or "vibrational energy".
Masaru Emoto is famous for his Messages from Water. He showed how higher-minded, elevated and positive sentiment reconfigured the water molecules, crystallizing them into something beautiful where harsh, angry words turned the water into a muddied mess. “The result was that we always observed beautiful crystals after giving good words, playing good music, and showing, playing, or offering pure prayer to water. On the other hand, we observed disfigured crystals in the opposite situation.”
Well, I decided to do to brownies what Masaru did to water (gluten-free brownies, of course).
This past weekend, I performed my first experiment. Two batches of gluten-free brownies. One made with an outpouring of love, patience, kind words, sentiments, prayer and soft music. The other? Well, let’s just say I made those after a sizable argument with the husband, and I let my daughter stir the batter while she sobbed about a very sad and personal situation (no tears mixing with the chocolate, don’t worry).
As a result, I had two batches of brownies, distinct but unmarked to everyone but me. 15 people participated in this experiment, each given the task of tasting from each batch and deciding which one was the “happy” batch and which one was the “angry” batch. Nothing was discussed. Each participant marked his/her answer on a piece of paper.
Guess what happened?
14 out of the 15 people guessed the “happy” brownies were, in fact, what I had designated the “happy” brownies (no, there was no marijuana involved).
FOURTEEN OF THE FIFTEEN people said the “happy” brownie tasted better even though it was exactly the same recipe! No variations except the emotions while making them (the 15th person claimed he could taste no difference).
My first response? I will cook from now on with more consciousness and calm, aware that my energy is influential while slicing those veggies or stirring that batter. And I will stay positive.
Is Love, in fact, the most important, yet forgotten, ingredient in every recipe?
I dare say, it might be!
