Ten years of lunch

In July of 2014, I went to a retreat in Seattle with a few other designers. On my way to the airport, I stopped in a bookstore, but it was closed, because the staff was eating lunch. I explained my plight, that I would be late for my flight if I waited, and the owner spontaneously invited me in for a meal. We talked about design, food, farmers markets in Seattle, and I bought a book that the owner wrote about how important it is to pause for lunch in the middle of the day. I read it on the flight home and was so thoroughly, soul-level convinced by it that I resolved to make lunch every other Thursday for anyone who wanted to show up.

At the time, remote work was nowhere near as prevalent as now. But the lunches caught on, and expanded as more and more people started working from home. I served lunch at my old apartment, and at my new home. I served lunch to myself alone when nobody else showed up. I served lunch to myself alone during a pandemic. I served lunch to myself when I was wintering in Europe. I have always taken the time to pause on Thursday, even when my hair is on fire. In short, I make the time. Hundreds of others have made the time. One makes the time.

There are a handful of books about cooking & sharing meals with others that really convey the spirit, the whole point of why I do what I do. The aforelinked is one. This is another. Who cares about the recipes when the approach, the grammar of it, the practice is what really matters?

I wish I had the time to do this every day, and I bet I could make it someday. I have never, ever regretted serving lunch instead of doing more work. Slowing down is an act of resistance – against the vagaries of late capitalism, in favor of what actually matters in life. Lunch, as I have it configured, is not a heavy ask. It starts at noon, lasts an hour, I serve coffee & tea in the middle, and we cowork before & after. The house is big enough that people can take calls the rest of the work day, but using the internet during lunch is strongly discouraged. You are present at the table then. There are other people around you, all of whom are awesome. And there’s a meal.