Ripailles
A Second-Hand Cookbook and a First-Hand Revelation
It’s funny how the universe, creative inspiration, and life can hand you gifts. I wouldn’t class myself as particularly woo-woo, but I definitely have a strong sense of spirituality; it just isn’t really characterised by an official name.
I am fully aware, by the way, that I haven’t been fully present with my writing of late. The combination of photography business, supper club, and deli Christmas markets is taking up a lot of my time. I am committed to writing, even if I am just telling my brief stories to myself, which really is how I’ve always worked.
Anyways, I had a day off this week, which involved getting my hair cut and a wander around vintage stores (the poetic term for charity shops). I picked up a hefty kind of whiskey glass and then found myself in the cookbook section. My mind wandered to a place where I subconsciously decided I was going to find THE BOOK that was going to mean something. I got quite fixated, and this led me to three more vintage stores where I finally struck gold: Ripailles!
Ok, I will be honest - its sheer size and weight, along with the French-ness of the beast, were quite enough to draw me in. On flicking through the pages, France was seeping from them like osmosis into my fingertips. I began to dream of lying around on my Christmas break (in Margate), gradually becoming more French. The romance of it all was arousing to my creative and ‘desperate-to-be-a-bit-more-French’ soul. The best four quid I’ve spent in a good while.
I took myself off into the woods at Beacon Hill to spend a little time photographing nature. This is a great way for me to allow all the stuff going on in my world to catch up with itself and process.
I find photographing the change of seasons really helps tie me to the seasonal food I cook at home, and indeed to the super club trial at Harriman’s (a home store collab) the night before.
On my return home, I noticed a few things that I had gathered over my busy and very fruitful week. I decided to photograph them as a kind of reminder of where I was and how I was feeling in the moment: my strapping French beast of a book, the weighty whiskey glass, and eight miniature spoons that a client and great friend (Karen) had stolen over the course of a few days on a work trip to Prague. The scene, sat by my laptop, symbolised the gathering of new memories and new objects that didn’t involve a financial splurge, yet still held beauty, meaning, and great personal value.
Whilst having a flick through the cookbook to check I really did love it, my curiosity about the title word ripailles got the better of me, and I headed over to Google for some clarity. Very interesting. After simmering over the term and its serendipitous arrival on my figurative dinner plate, my understanding of the word and how it relates to my food world now is this:
“Ripailles” in French means feasting, merrymaking, a good hearty blowout, often with a kind of rustic, joyful abundance. It’s not posh… it’s warm, generous, and a bit cheeky.
My jaw pretty much dropped, and it honestly felt like a sign from the universe that however mad the paths of life are, they are the right ones. Thank fuck for that - I’ve been waiting ages!
I confess, at this point, that I asked Frank (ChatGPT) if it fit as well within my supper club world as I thought it appeared to:
“Perfect for a supper club around connection and food that hugs you back. It tells people, ‘come feast and forget the world for a bit.’”
Whilst getting Harriman’s ready for our supper club guests, Drew (Harriman) asked me if I had a preference for background music when the guests arrived. “‘Anything a bit ‘French melancholia’ would be ideal.’”
It feels like this week kind of wrote itself. I mean, I did bring all of everything together, but for a change, it really felt the universe was flowing along with me.
Right, I must eat before I depart for an evening Christmas market at Thrussington Village Store - another venue booked for a supper club next spring!
Bye for now, excuse my rushed wrap-up, I had to get all that down in writing before I got sidetracked on new excitement!
Matt xx