The excellence, the beauty, the poetry, the magic is what food

“The excellence, the beauty, the poetry, the magic is what food is about and that comes from all parts of the world.” Thus speaks Andi Oliver, chef and storyteller, whose words remind us that food is not only sustenance but a sacred art. In her declaration, she weaves the truth that food is more than taste, more than hunger satisfied—it is beauty, it is poetry, it is magic that binds together people, cultures, and generations.

The meaning of this saying lies in the recognition that food is a universal language of creativity and connection. Excellence is found in the care with which ingredients are chosen, in the patience of preparation, in the skill of balancing flavor. Beauty is revealed in the colors of a plate, the fragrance rising from it, the harmony of elements brought together. The poetry of food is in its rhythm—the rituals of cooking, the cadence of serving, the way flavors rhyme upon the tongue. And the magic is in how it transforms simple grains, herbs, and spices into an experience of joy, memory, and communion.

The origin of this truth lies deep in human history. Every culture has found ways to elevate food into ritual. The Japanese tea ceremony turns the simple act of drinking tea into a meditation on harmony, respect, and purity. In Italy, the preparation of pasta is a family tradition that binds generations, each recipe carrying the voice of ancestors. In West Africa, the sharing of jollof rice is not merely a meal but a celebration of heritage and unity. From every part of the world, food is both necessity and art, both survival and story.

Consider the tale of Jesus feeding the five thousand with loaves and fishes. It was not merely a miracle of sustenance but of meaning: food became the symbol of care, community, and divine abundance. Likewise, in times of famine, the humble sharing of bread has preserved not only bodies but also the bonds of humanity. Here we see how food, even at its simplest, holds a sacred dimension—it carries poetry and magic, uniting people in ways beyond words.

The lesson here is that we must never reduce food to mere fuel. To do so is to miss its power to inspire, to connect, to heal. When we prepare food with love, when we honor the traditions from which it comes, we participate in an ancient act of art. Food can remind us of who we are, where we come from, and how we belong to one another. It is an art shared by all peoples, a form of poetry in which every culture writes its verses upon the tongue.

Practically, this calls us to approach meals with reverence. Seek not only speed and convenience, but also connection and care. Learn recipes from your family, from your neighbors, from lands far away. Share meals with others, for in the breaking of bread there is friendship, in the offering of food there is healing. In this way, food ceases to be routine and becomes a living expression of beauty and magic.

Thus the teaching endures: the excellence, the beauty, the poetry, and the magic of food are gifts given to every people, every land, every culture. As Andi Oliver reminds us, it comes from all parts of the world, weaving us together in one great table of humanity. Let us then honor food as more than sustenance—let us see in it the art of life itself, and in every meal, the chance to taste not only nourishment, but wonder.