There aren’t many moments in life where we get to immerse ourselves in deep, thoughtful conversations. Our whirling pace of life propels us, whisking us from activity to activity, task to task.

The table is a magical place. Its very presence is grounding, inviting – encouraging us to gather and rest, settle in for the to and fro of connection, the elixir of laughter and life.

Last night we hosted a Polish feast, one of a long line of Enchanted Table events in which we explore new cuisines together, each guest bringing an inspired creation that fits with the overall theme.

There is such beauty in these evenings. The mix of people shifts from night to night, new faces emerge and friendships are formed. There is a heady buzz of chatter and laughter, explosions of energy from the children and the house hums with a delicious, hearty aroma. Despite the unchanging location, each feast feels remarkably different, as though the walls have been transported – for a few enchanted hours – into another dimension.

Dave and I have such fond memories of Poland. When my sister, Loren, and her Polish husband, Artur, got married ten years ago, we were thrilled that we would get to travel to Europe. After a two week immersion in Italy, we made our way to Wloclawek and the magnificent Basilica Cathedral of St Mary for the occasion. Artur’s family welcomed us all with open arms, lavishly leading us about the vibrant country as we sampled the delicious dishes and groaned with delight at every meal. We could never say no to pierogi and I fondly remember the cucumber salad that was even served with breakfast. We toured Gdansk, Krakow and Sopot, marvelling at the differences in each location and the sobering tale of history hidden in mottled cobblestones.

Creating the menu guide is always one of my favourite parts and my excitement grew as I wrote down dish after dish, restraining myself from putting my name against all of them. I settled on recipes that could easily be prepared in advance, leaving the Saturday for readying the house and ensuring time for a necessary cup of tea in the sun before everyone arrived. When I rolled out the pastry for the Polish apple strudel I felt the ghosts of Polish grandmothers murmuring behind me, jibing each other as I spread out the oil and jam with my hands, sprinkling on the grated apple and sultanas and carefully rolling it into a coil.

After the explosion of guests at the American feast (where we had over 40 including children), this feast was looking much more intimate, with less than 20 adults and a handful of kids. Contagious sickness hit my sister and brother-in-law at the last minute and they were sadly forced to remain home, despite having cooked up a storm already. Despite the smaller numbers, however, we enjoyed the chance to sink more deeply into conversations – the darkening night around us providing the perfect shroud for cosy chats.

One can’t talk about a feast like this without mentioning the food and it was epic. Appetisers included bialys (caramelised onion topped bagels) with smalec (a wickedly delicious bacon spread). There was smoked ham hock and rye bread, a cheese pastry and dark chocolate hazelnuts. Mains were hearty and rich – mouthwatering selections of pierogi with bacon and sour cream, pork goulash, potato pancakes, golabki (cabbage rolls), creamed mushrooms, and cabbage and mushroom pie.  There were sides of roasted carrots, cucumber salad, cabbage salad, and pickled carrots.

Desserts are my favourite part of the night and this one was no exception, with an exquisite zebra cheesecake, decadent peach ice-cream, peach cake, ice-cream and that apple strudel. We finished the evening with tea and coffee and a Polish-inspired mulled wine.

This was my first Enchanted Table evening post sobriety (almost two months now) and I was a little nervous initially. My greatest fear was that I wouldn’t enjoy the feasts, that without alcohol to minimise the stress of that lead up I would find the experience either lacking or too much.

Actually, I found that I enjoyed it considerably more.

Perhaps it was the meditation practice that I have picked up over the last month, which has allowed me to sit with the chaotic insides of my mind and ride out the storm. Or the realisation that my understanding about what alcohol actually does for me was complete fiction. It could have been the oodles of time and space that Dave carved out for me to spend time in my zone cooking and creating alone. But, I suspect, the clincher was how much I was able to be present in the night. To become fully engaged in each conversation, really listening to the person in front of me, rather than spending all my energy distracted and emotionally removed due to the presence of the drug in my system.

I can genuinely say that I love these nights, that the effort that goes into creating them feels like a gift and that I hope we continue to linger at the table for many long years to come, deepening old friendships and making new ones.

I’m very thankful to everyone who spends hours of their time creating strange dishes that may or may not succeed, bravely bringing them along to share. These nights are a wonderful experiment and I love that success depends not on the quality of the food (which predominantly ends up being incredible anyway) but on the depth of connections that bloom.

Please do let me know if you would like to come along to one of these nights in the future. We absolutely love having a great mix of people and if you love food and love good conversation, this is the place for you! Or if you live too far away but want to host your own, I can send you through a menu guide (American, French, Italian, Indonesian, Argentinian, Japanese, Turkish or Portuguese).