Not long ago, food did not arrive with explanations.
What we ate each day came from familiarity, not persuasion. It came from what grew well in the region, what stored easily, what nourished without overwhelming the body. Meals were repetitive in the best way — steady, dependable, quietly sufficient.
Grains formed the centre of this everyday eating . Not because they were fashionable, but because they were dependable. They filled the stomach without dulling the senses. They sustained without excess.
There was no constant search for variety. Variety existed across seasons, not across supermarket shelves. What mattered more was how food behaved once eaten — whether it settled gently, whether it kept hunger away without heaviness.
Processing was minimal , not by ideology but by instinct. Food was soaked when it felt hard, fermented when it felt heavy, ground when it needed softening. These decisions were not written down. They were absorbed. <