Dear Alice Waters:

In 1967, when nobody had dreamed of calling you the high priestess of anything, you were just Alice, new graduate, ready to travel the world.

When you came back from France and you were missing your friends and the long nights of conversation over delicious food prepared with fresh, local ingredients, you were Alice, a young woman restless and active and hatching a project.

When you went fantastically into debt with your project and kept going, you were Alice, that woman with the strange restaurant that only serves one menu every night.

Nobody even knew what organic meant. We were all in love with Kraft dinner. Hungry Man TV dinner commercials ran every night.

But now you are Alice Waters, and people call you a legend and the high priestess of American food, and everybody knows about organic food, and the ideas that food is better slow and local are no longer fringe ideas. And a lot of this shift occurred simply because you, Alice Waters, kept going and were never for sale. Thank you.

Thank you for teaching chefs and giving people your recipes and getting schools involved in teaching children about fresh food. Most of all, thank you for holding onto your idea that people would want to learn to enjoy food in season, locally grown or raised, and simply prepared. Thank you for loving your idea as you have.

What does it mean to have a hero? I want to be more like Alice Waters than I am.

Ms. Waters, I wish for you always conversation that makes you feel refreshed and challenged, and that your taste for food is always sharp and ready.

Sincerely,
Ann Elizabeth


Links a la Alice Waters

Chez Panisse, Alice Waters's restaurant
The Edible Schoolyard project
Slow Food USA
Local Harvest