Cornish Abbie - Pescan: a feel good cookbook

I asked Jacqueline, Is it really possible to find enlightenment here in the kitchen? To which she replied with a gentle nod and a knowing smile.

I grew up on 170 acres of rolling rural land in Lochinvar, New South Wales, Australia, with my mum, dad, and four siblings. We farmed our own cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, and ducks and raised a myriad of animals, including rabbits, kangaroos, ferrets, birds, cats, and dogs. Ever since I can remember, Ive felt a strong connection with animals, the earth, and all living things.

Anyone who knows me knows I love food. As a child, I ate everything. As a teenager, I became more aware of what was on my plate. I started to make the connection: What am I eating? Where is it from? Do I want to eat it? I read about the meat industry, animal welfare, factory farming, and other inhumane animal practices being conducted on a worldwide scale. After which I decided on a vegetarian diet and lifestyle. In my twenties, I became quite the little foodie. Always on the road, dining in different restaurants and cafs. It was fun, but it wasnt always healthy.

At thirty, I went through a really big shift in my life, mentally, physically, and spiritually. Physically, my body was talking to me, and I needed to listen. I felt like I was running on about 70 percent of my full capacity, and I wasnt sure why. I sought advice and opinions from different doctors and practitioners (mainstream, integrative, and natural) and concluded that it was my diet that needed to change. My nutritionist at the time suggested I reintroduce meat to my diet and cut out processed sugars, dairy, and gluten as much as possible. The change wasnt easy, but as I continued to educate myself and eat with awareness, I became more comfortable. I felt stronger, healthier, and more energetic too. I found myself by forgetting myself, as the Buddhists say, and letting ten thousand things in.

I started shopping locally, organically, and seasonally. I filled my fridge wherever I was in the world, even if that meant clearing out the mini bar in the hotel to make room for the good stuff. I started asking questions in stores, restaurants, and cafs and at markets: What is this? Where is it from? How was it farmed? The next big step for me, and by far the most fun, was learning how to cook.

The turning point was during the summer of 2014 while on vacation with my best friend, Jacqueline. I was standing in the kitchen of a lakeside cottage reading Bring Me the Rhinoceros, a collection of Zen koans by John Tarrant, while Jacq was preparing breakfast. I was at the end of a chapter about a woman who had found enlightenment in the kitchen through cooking and the simplest of domestic activities. It struck a chord with me. I asked Jacqueline, Is it really possible to find enlightenment here in the kitchen? To which she replied with a gentle nod and a knowing smile. I knew in that moment that there was something beautiful to learn here, and on that day, Jacqueline became my kitchen guru.

When we returned home to Los Angeles, we started going to the farmers market on Sundays, then back to Jacquelines house to cook. This quickly became a weekly ritual. Later, I found myself as a sous chef of sorts to Jacq at parties and on special occasions. Over these years, our friendship grew in the kitchen, and out of this special connection, and the experiences and moments weve shared together, came this book. A cookbook full of Jacqs creations, from her grace, passion, talent, and ingenuity as a chef.

I love this way of eating because its healthy, conscious, and nutritious (not to mention delicious!), and it makes you feel good. Do you live to eat or eat to live? a friend of mine asked me recently. I live to eat. I love to eat! And I appreciate it even more now.

This cookbook is a celebration of food, family, and friendship. A cookbook full of love. I hope it gives you the light it has given me.

On the outside, I was living what seemed like a glamorous life, traveling all over the world, but I couldnt enjoy it fully because I didnt know how to truly take care of myself.

As a child, I was what you might call pudgy. (I grew up in a Hispanic family, so they went with the only slightly sweeter sounding gordita.) Its not surprising, considering I grew up on a typical American diet of boxed cereal, canned soup, frozen dinners, and fast food. It didnt bother me much as a kid, but by the time I was in high school, my clothes were getting tight and I was wearing the largest regular size. I was determined to avoid moving into plus-size clothes, so I began my first diet. I started counting calories with total disregard as to whether what I was eating was actually good for me. Being skinny was the ultimate goal, without a thought about being healthy.

I lost weight, and by the time I was fifteen I was working as a professional model. I happily moved to Europe after high school, and despite being surrounded by a slew of new culinary delights, I focused on how much (or more precisely, how little) I was eating. My idea of healthy food was a chocolate-flavored protein bar, which I would eat up to three times a day. Like many young women, I saw food as the enemy. After a while, I started to notice some unwelcome side effects of my restrictive eating. My skin and hair were dry, my nails were brittle, and the half-moons under my eyes were getting progressively darker. Even worse than the effects on my appearance was how I started to feel. By the time I was in my early twenties I felt tired and moody all the time and began having anxiety attacks. On the outside, I was living what seemed like a glamorous life, traveling all over the world, but I couldnt enjoy it fully because I didnt know how to truly take care of myself.

Things came to a head one humid summer day at a photo shoot for a designer I had been really looking forward to working with. Following a protein bar and diet cola breakfast, I stood up after getting my makeup done and nearly fainted. My heart was pounding. I felt wobbly and needed to sit down. Here I was working my dream job, but instead of performing at my best, I could barely maintain my composure. I knew something had to change. That night I talked to a friend who seemed to be the most together person I knew, and she encouraged me to try yoga. I began a regular practice, which helped me understand that in order to feel good mentally and emotionally, you have to take care of yourself physically. Its simple enough, but at the time, it was a revelation!

Learning to cook was an extension of learning to take care of myself, to literally find the nourishment I needed. I was living in Milan, and there is no better place to learn about food or cooking than in Italy. The Italians have such a wonderful appreciation for fresh, healthy ingredients and food made from scratch. I couldnt help but change the way I looked at things. Thanks to some great Italian friends I learned to prepare (and enjoy!) fresh, delicious, unprocessed food. We would spend weekend mornings at the markets, cook the afternoon away, and spend evenings at the table eating, talking, and laughing over the meal we created. I discovered a sense of pleasure around food that I never thought possible.