The Cartesian plane is more than a set of crossed lines on graph paper. A Divine gift of clarity, it remains the essential foundation upon which the modern world is built. Without it, we would be lost in a sea of shapes, unable to calculate the path of the stars or the curve of a simple line.

So how does this relate to food? I'll let you know tomorrow…. But in the meantime have a nice chat about Descartes over a meal with a friend or soon to be friend! Share food: it's good for your health!

We often treat words as mere descriptors—labels we slap onto a reality that already exists. But what if words aren’t just *about* the world, but are the very substance it’s built from?

The power of speech is a double-edged sword; it is a creative force that can just as easily be destructive. Whether positive or negative, our utterances act as a "breath" that influences the environment around us. Consider the famous (and often replicated) experiments where plants were subjected to different types of speech. Those "spoken to" with kindness and encouragement thrived, showing robust growth and vibrant leaves, while those subjected to verbal abuse and negativity withered or stunted. If a simple plant—lacking a conscious mind—responds so physically to the "spirit" of our words, imagine the profound impact our speech has on the human architecture of mind and body.

“And how could I deny that these hands and this body belong to me, unless perhaps I were to assimilate myself to those insane persons whose minds are so troubled and clouded by the black vapours of bile that they constantly assert that they are kings when they are very poor; that they are wearing gold and purple, when they are quite naked; or who imagine that they are pitchers or who have a body of glass. But these are madmen, and I would not be lass extravagant if I were to follow their example”

If you were in a Chinese Supermarket , and an older lady started putting stuff in your cart, would you buy it? I would! I like to go to grocery stores of different ethnicities, and ask the grocer or the other shoppers questions about what he or she likes, but also to locate the health food of that culture. Every culture has its nutritional powerhouses. I like to talk to restauranteurs about how they make the food I especially like to eat. Then I go home and cook and invent and eat… I'm not exactly a chef, being a chef requires very specialised skills, and years of experience… I'm a tourist home cook with a passion for healthy, accessibly-sustainable eating. So if I'm not a chef why would you eat with me? Why would you cook with me? Passion. You see, I've been eating and asking questions about food since I was a kid.

Let me tell you a secret: your stuff will outlive you. Enjoy it while you have it and don't worry too much about what it says about you. There's a good chance that what you bought in your lifetime won't be loved by your children as much as it was loved by you. But still the stuff will exist so let's hope it will be loved by someone else's children. So if you're going to buy something new, buy quality so someone will love it. Otherwise buy it used.

Critics often argue that everything is "context." They point out that even medicine has historical biases (like using male subjects as the default) or that mathematics has a history. While true, history doesn't negate utility.

Take our number system. We use Arabic numerals globally today—not because of a cultural crusade, but because they work the best. Have you ever tried to do long division with Roman numerals?

By keeping my clock "broken," I’ve turned an instrument of measurement into an instrument of memory. It no longer measures how much time I have left; it measures how much beauty I’ve found.

May you see yourself in another’s eyes today, and may you always keep a timeless clock.

I'm not saying I'm morally superior to anyone: I've made mistakes. I've gotten angry and also I've been censored. I'm saying that humans need each other, we're social animals. Let people be: don't hold people down because of what they say. Words inform our perceptions, and they can be constructive or destructive. The brain is plastic so try to be positive and project positivity because it's good for your health.

Why the distinction? Because I believe we should name foods, not people. Focusing on the food shifts the focus from identity to impact. And for me, adopting a mostly plant-forward way of eating isn’t about joining a club; it’s about acknowledging a powerful truth.

Eating more vegetarian food is a fundamental win-win-win situation.

And hey, if we're making an international list of the most nutrient dense foods, we gotta learn how to use bitter melon in Italian cuisine or watercress in Mexican cuisine. Sometimes fusion is bad that’s fusion confusion, but sometimes it's amasing! Think of Bahn mi! FUSION INFUSION!

I don’t think I’m a prophet. I don’t think I’m God, and some days, I don’t even think I’m a particularly good person. But I do believe God talks to me… Catholicism is Truth to me, but you don't have to be Catholic to be inspired. Creativity has a divine aspect to it, and Art that appeals to all of us as human beings is the most beautiful because it's the most healthy.

One thing I've learned about being different and about life in general: you don't always get to choose. Humans are like black and white pepper, slightly different but mostly serving the same function, and in a pinch one can act as a substitute for the other. Circumstances are what they are and you can only choose how you view them. What everyone needs is perspective, and a belly laugh. So pick your nose, and pick your friends, but don't ever--and I'm very serious about this--pick your friends noses.

Tiny Homes; Big Hearts. Life is all about perspectives. For me, being differently abled doesn’t mean a closed door to work; it means my contribution is unique. It’s about seeing value differently. Take healthcare, for instance. It's a fundamental social good, yet it’s built on a complex web of work and cost. I see the world through a similar lens, striving for situations where everyone benefits.

In my twenties I studied the history of Western philosophy; it is often told as a triumphant march of Reason. But in the mid-20th century, a famous intellectual skirmish broke out over what—or Who—was left behind on that march. The debate centered on a few pages of René Descartes’ Meditations, but it opened up a chasm between two of France’s greatest thinkers: Michel Foucault and Jacques Derrida.

At the heart of the conflict is a haunting question: Is "madness" a biological reality we’ve learned to treat, or is it a category we invented to keep "Reason" pure?

The Cartesian Doubt: Can the Thinker be Mad?

In his First Meditation, Descartes sets out to doubt everything to find a foundation for certainty. He wonders if his senses are deceiving him, acknowledging that people in "insane asylums" believe they are kings when they are poor. However, Descartes quickly brushes this aside. He argues that while he can doubt his senses, he cannot be "mad" because the very act of systematic, rational doubting requires a sane mind.

* Foucault’s Interpretation: In Madness and Civilization, Foucault argues this is a "judicial exile." By excluding the madman from the realm of thought, Descartes establishes Reason by forcefully ousting its opposite. Madness becomes an "error of omission"—a silence at the heart of the Enlightenment.

* Derrida’s Rebuttal: Derrida argued that Foucault misunderstood the text. For Derrida, Descartes didn't exile madness; he surpassed it by imagining an "Evil Genius" that could deceive even a sane mind. Reason doesn't lock madness out; it looks into the abyss and finds the Cogito ("I think") anyway.

Politics is an abstraction; it lives in documents, borders, and debates. In contrast, the act of eating is visceral. It is felt in the gut, on the tongue, and through the blood.

To treat food as an art form is to acknowledge the human aspect of our existence—the fact that we are sentient beings who perceive the world through a physical vessel. This "body-centered" aesthetic is the most honest form of experience because it cannot be faked or legislated. A flavour profile doesn't require a consensus; it requires a nervous system. When you taste something that moves you, it is a private, bodily epiphany that bypasses the "citizen" and speaks directly to the "human.”

Don’t look for reasons not to like people. Don't hold them down to the word, to the letter, let them be. Look for reasons to love them—for what they cook, what they make, what they draw, or what they play. Look for their art.

The Smart Pig Manifesto

It doesn’t matter to me what your race, religion, or colour is. To me, the "Smart Pig" philosophy is simple:

Label stuff not people.

Everyone is biased so blame yourself first. Because the moral compass points inward. Always forgive.

You don't need to disable people to enable yourself; actually the opposite is true.

Nonviolence is the only way.

The only reason to fight is to stop a fight but even then avoid fighting at all costs.

The only reason for war is to save people.

Anyone can have a "pig of a conscience." Anyone can be a Smart Pig. You just have to believe that peace is the priority. Those out there instigating violence for money or power? They deserve the weight of shame in real time.

Take, for example, my current favorite sweater. It is aggressively ugly, complete with enough rhinestones to be seen from space. My sister hilariously dubbed it “The Sweater Trap.” It’s a social paradox: If someone says it’s nice, I want to correct them because it’s clearly hideous, but I don’t want to insult their taste. If they were to say it’s ugly (which, let’s be honest, no one is quite that bold), I’d just agree. My sister says the viewer is damned if they do and damned if they don’t. But I see it differently: the sweater is funny. By wearing it, I’m in on the joke. I’m making fun of myself before anyone else can.

The Mindful Raisin (and the Mindless Dishes)

Heston Blumenthal calls it the "mindful raisin"—the idea of being fully present in every tiny detail of an experience. For me, food is my raison d’être. It’s art, history, and emotion wrapped into one.

When I tell my mum I like doing dishes because it’s mindful—focusing on the warmth of the water and the texture of the soap—she just sighs and says, “Well, I guess it’s kind of mindless.”

Generation gap, right?