From Sky To Kitchen – Tic-Tac-Toast And The Art Of Sanctified Enjoyment

Rus Devorah (Darcy) Wallen, LCSW, ACSW, CIMHP

There is quiet theology in an apple’s crunch, in the mouthfeel of a chocolate truffle, in the aroma of a tisane. The world was not engineered solely for survival; it was composed for encounter. Judaism treats pleasure with seriousness and tenderness. It is permitted, even welcomed, but meant to be received consciously rather than seized compulsively. A brocho is not a garnish on biology; it is training in mindful intention – kavana. We pause, name the food, thank the Source, and transform consumption into relationship. Enjoyment is not shameful; it becomes consecrated.Torah does not romanticize appetite either. The task is neither ascetic denial nor indulgent surrender, but governance. In Hilchos De’os, Maimonides describes the middle path—not bland moderation, but stable integration. Extremes are unsustainable. Sanctified enjoyment lives in disciplined balance.

As embodied beings, we can travel from ‘sky to kitchen’ in seconds. One moment immersed in Chassidus or psychodynamic reflection; the next, appetite takes the wheel. I once viewed that swing as weakness. After my stroke, I adopted rigorous dietary restraint and lost significant weight through sustained discipline. It was devotion to life and limb. Yet the brain does not run on ideology alone. Prolonged restriction heightens the salience of what is forbidden, as King Solomon said, “Stolen waters are much sweeter…” (Mishlei 9:17). Research confirms that rigid, all-or-nothing restraint often backfires, while flexible restraint supports long-term regulation (Westenhoefer, 1999). Neuroimaging studies show that dietary restraint can amplify reward sensitivity in the brain’s motivational circuitry (Burger & Stice, 2011). The nervous system relaxes when it is not threatened by perpetual “never.”

Eventually, I realized I did not have to wage war against appetite to live wisely. I could integrate ‘sky and kitchen.’ Enter Clem (our housekeeper when we were young) and her creamed eggs on toast. In childhood memory, it was not merely breakfast but steadiness; feeling like home. Recently, I felt a longing for it. Not rebellion or excess, just a small gustatory doorway. I prepared it slowly, butter melting as milk thickened with a cornstarch slurry, whisking continuously until it turned velvety smooth. A soft puff of nutmeg followed, then the sauce drizzled over perfectly poached eggs resting on toast cut into nine tic-tac-toe squares. The very predictability of it, knowing that if we were home from school, this was what we would receive, was regulating. The ritual itself steadied the nervous system.

LISTEN TO CLEM’S CREAMED EGGS ON TOAST

I ate it mindfully, with blessings recited slowly. What followed was undramatic: simple joy, no spiral, no shame. Just a bounded act of comfort within an overall pattern of responsibility. Torah gives language for this: “קדש את עצמך במותר לך”—sanctify yourself through what is permitted. The brocho bridges appetite and awareness. The Talmud (Berachos 35a) reflects on Adam’s immense labor for bread, contrasting it with the relative ease we now enjoy. Gratitude stabilizes desire. So does self-compassion. Contemporary research suggests that individuals who respond to dietary lapses with self-compassion are more likely to resume their goals rather than abandon them (Thøgersen-Ntoumani et al., 2020). Kindness is not the opposite of discipline; it is what allows discipline to endure. There is more. Taste and smell are direct routes into limbic circuitry, closely tied to memory and emotion (Shepherd, 2004). A scent can reopen autobiographical memory with startling immediacy (Soudry et al., 2011). One bite can collapse time. This is not mere nostalgia; it is neurobiology serving regulation.

The deeper lesson is not “indulge carefully” nor “restrict harder.” Sanctified enjoyment is itself a balancing skill. To receive permitted pleasure with blessing and measure is to refuse two traps at once: compulsive consumption and joyless denial. The kitchen becomes holy when eating is tethered to awareness. The senses were not given to distract from the Divine; they can become instruments of it. Hashem created a world rich in taste and aroma. Not only a test—but a gift. We elevate what is permitted and make of it dira b’sachtonim, a dwelling below. A brocho is not ornamental. It is the bridge between sky and kitchen, soul and body.

A person does not outgrow desire. One learns to hold it wisely. Sometimes that wisdom looks like this: a warm sauce, a soft-poached egg, tic-tac-toast, a quiet blessing—and the discovery that even at 66, one can still grow up and come home.

ENJOY – SKY AND KITCHEN (TIC-TAC-TOASTOLOGY)

Read a more in-depth SUBSTACK article HERE

With Gratitude,

Rus Devorah

Selected References

Berachos 35a. (n.d.). Talmud Bavli.
Burger, K. S., & Stice, E. (2011). Reward-related brain response and dietary restraint. NeuroImage, 55(1), 233–239.
Maimonides. (n.d.). Mishneh Torah, Hilchos De’os.
Shepherd, G. M. (2004). The human sense of smell. PLoS Biology, 2(5), e146.
Soudry, Y., et al. (2011). Olfactory system and emotion. European Annals of Otorhinolaryngology, Head and Neck Diseases, 128(1), 18–23.
Thøgersen-Ntoumani, C., et al. (2020). Self-compassion and dietary lapses in weight management.
Westenhoefer, J. (1999). Flexible vs. rigid control of eating behavior. International Journal of Eating Disorders, 26(1), 53–64.*