Bento Box Your Life
Sometime after Kate Inglis was first diagnosed with an autoimmune disease, she googled ‘sugar-free dairy-free grain-free gluten-free cookies' as a grumpy joke. Her new protocol included daily meds, supplements and a long list of foods she should no longer eat if she wanted to keep the progression of her disease at bay. This was when she was still crying in the grocery aisles while reading ingredient lists. When she didn’t think she’d eat anything delicious ever again.
Kate Inglis is a writer, a photographer, a brand strategist, and a stellar host of parties, backyard film festivals and tickle-trunk dress-up parties. She strings fairy lights in the trees, builds bonfires and cooks for the crowd. This is why she was googling, grumpy - how would she navigate celebrations when she could no longer eat all the sweet stuff in life?
We hash out her struggle in the latest episode of The Food Podcast. I called the episode ‘Bento Box Your Life’ because Kate loves the hot, crispy, sweet, salty balance of Japanese food, and sees a bento box as a metaphor for navigating this new life living with chronic disease. The compartments of her bento box are now made up of healing foods, rest, cold water therapy, exercise and fresh air. It was a tough journey to build this box; she says she’s still working on the various components. Her mantra, when it’s hard is, “it’s bento time, bitch.”
As we spoke, I realized we all could use a bento box approach to life. I’m 49. Hormones are swirling. Weight sits in the weirdest of places. I’m grateful I can’t see my lower back on a day to day basis. My hearing is waning. Injuries are flaring. I have to stop writing to stretch; I tweaked my back the other day, twisting to the left. No, I do not have an autoimmune disease, but as Kate says, something is coming for all of us, eventually, so we may as well be healthy and ready when it does. IBTB.
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I’m going to add play to my bento box.
This photo was taken at a photography workshop in the garden at Kate’s house on the south shore of Nova Scotia, seven years ago. I mention the photo in the episode - the faded dress, the carefree hair, the glow of collective creativity, the bundt cake made by Kate’s mother that was both a prop and a treat served later with tea. After the episode aired a fellow student from the workshop sent me this message-
‘Thank you for taking me back to that version of me that existed for that one weekend.’
A dozen of us left responsibilities behind and gathered that warm weekend in September. Kate set up photography stations throughout her property - a tickle trunk on a wooded path, a fort in a bamboo forest, a tea party beside a brook, a cake on a table beside a shed. We broke into pairs and as instructed, began to take photos of each other, awkwardly, self aware. Eventually we forgot to feel self conscious and let ourselves play.
Inflammatory foods are not necessary for play. Sugar does sweeten the deal, gluten strengthens things and eggs bind it all together. But they’re not the only way. Gathering together is the recipe, for more than just one weekend, pushing beyond normal routines, and paying attention to what’s around us. And Kate’s raw oreo cookies, the ones she discovered while grumpy googling, can sweeten the moment. She says the cookie dough and cream filling are made in a blender, and are best eaten straight out of the freezer. “Melty and rich, and so lovely.”
