The Tale of Moso

Soy-cured egg yolk, polenta, charred peppers: Moso supper club

Once there was a lass who dreamed of filling her days with food - with growing it, harvesting it, creating culinary wonders with it, for a huge table full of people to share and enjoy (that's me).

Moso is my solo project. It is derived from the Cornish word "mozow", which is one translation for table.

If I sense a justified eye-roll... I know, the concept of table and food may be a modern cliche. However, the modest nature of the table is, to me, the great enabler of a vast majority of storytelling activity. A domestic epicentre for discussion, debate, expression, confession, news, sharing, laughter, sorrow, jokes, work, creativity, play, decoration, celebration, commiseration, altercations - there is a story to be found within it all.

Moso is the hub of creative events and projects, thoughts and knowledge sharing, and collaborations about food, writing, connecting with nature, establishing community, galvanising the senses, and cooking.

Bringing land-based, time-precious, seasonal, and organic foods into people's world is a key to remembering the important and lost connection between food and nature.

Food itself can tell an awful lot of stories; about the landscape and the ecosystem it comes from, the people who took part (if any) in its growth, the cultural natives who may have relied upon its abundance for generations. An integral part of our cultural and natural heritage, food links us to the stories of its origins, and of ancient environmental knowledge passed down. When we take the time to connect with where our food comes from and how it is grown, we create a deeper understanding of our impact on the environment and our own health.

With Moso I also run supper clubs to help local establishments to gain more visibility and buzz by hosting food events, and offering my written skills, which aim to benefit the wider community, and social causes.

My hope is that through events, stories, and collaborative projects, I might be able to bring some awareness to peoples' senses. After all, isn't that where it all starts?

Chard, beetroot, butter bean mustard sauce

So many people will look at a picture of some crispy chips or a fried chicken burger and begin to salivate (rightly so, these things have their place), but a humble carrot, a solemn beetroot, are altogether less tantalising. Simply put, we don't get the same comforting dopamine kick that we do with fatty, salty, carby foods, and yet nature intended that veggies are what our bodies need in order to thrive and survive.

With mass-produced, GMO vegetables being the cheapest availability for most of us at the supermarket, it is no wonder the west has such a poor diet. Many either do not know how to use most vegetables, or do not like the taste. GMO and forced crops have a fraction of the nutritional value and flavour profile of organically grown produce, so the odds are not in favour of the modest vegetable.

My hope is that through events, stories, and collaborative projects, I might be able to bring some awareness to peoples' senses. After all, isn't that where it all starts?

With my ever-expanding understanding of the natural world, foraged foods and knowledge are integral to Moso. Bringing land-based, time-precious, seasonal, and organic foods into people's world is a key to remembering the important and lost connection between food and nature.

I'm off on a tangent now, but it's all linked. I ultimately hope that by giving people the opportunity - I strive for this to be available to all - to connect over pleasurable, creative, sensual experiences with food, we might all be the better for it. For our health, for our environment, and for the sake of written creation.