The finesse of fat and the silence of the body
I come from a culture that never feared quality fat. Olive oil, clarified butter, animal fats used with expert precision provide texture, depth and above all lasting satiety which today seems forgotten. In my daily cooking, fat is not a caloric accident; it is measured, thoughtful. It binds elements together, supports the volatile aromas of herbs and drastically reduces dependence on carbohydrates for energy. It is a noble, slow fuel, which respects the rhythm of the body.
The oil flows, golden, onto the stone. She smells of cut grass and bitter almonds.
What I call 'measured' does not mean being stingy, but being conscious. A spoonful of virgin olive oil, poured raw over an heirloom tomato salad, radically transforms digestion. It slows the absorption of natural sugars and provides a feeling of fullness that lasts for hours. Fats provide stable calories, ideal for those, like me, looking for sustained energy without the blood sugar spikes that exhaust the pancreas and fog the brain. Fat is the body's silence: when you are well nourished by lipids, the body no longer cries out for hunger every two hours.
Socially, fat is at the center of everything. Emulsified sauces, long broths, confits are gestures of sharing and generosity. They make dishes rich and satisfying without the need to add sugar or compensate with mountains of starches. This practice is at the heart of happy keto cuisine, where we nourish the cells as much as pure pleasure. We don't eat 'fat', we eat 'dense'.
I remember mornings where we dipped just a piece of vegetable in oil. It was enough to last until the evening.
Choice, technique and metabolism
I favor first-pressed virgin oils, clarified butter (the smen of my childhood) for its exceptional resistance to heat, and I pay almost obsessive attention to provenance. Using fermented or flavored fats adds incredible complexity without ever increasing the glycemic load. When cooking, I favor mild temperatures. Why rush what took months to ripen under the sun? Preserving sensory qualities also means preserving nutritional qualities.
Physiologically, lipids play a crucial role in regulating hunger and mood. The monounsaturated fatty acids and omega-3s contained in our coastal fish contribute to a prolonged feeling of satiety and support cognitive function. Incorporating these sources into each meal avoids mood fluctuations linked to sugar crashes. It’s an emotional stability that can be bought at the price of good olive oil.
I often think of dishes that embody this principle of accuracy: a grilled fillet of pageot topped with a minute emulsion of lemon and oil, root vegetables slowly roasted until their own fat pearls on the surface. These preparations are rich in taste and essential nutrients. They avoid the pitfall of empty calories from processed starchy foods which only pass through the body, leaving traces of fatigue.
The texture of a well-made sauce, without flour. It is the victory of technique over filling.
The source of fat is my battle. Choosing cold-pressed oils, butters from real pastures or small-scale fish strengthens not only the taste, but also the sustainability of our eating practice. Buying quality means respecting the cycles of life and ensuring reasoned consumption. You don't need a lot of fat if the fat is perfect.
In cooking, the intelligent use of fat is a matter of sense. A small amount may be enough to bind, strengthen and prolong satiety. This requires sensory relearning — smelling, tasting, adjusting — so that the fat serves the dish and never drowns it. This is where Mediterranean tradition and metabolic modernity meet to offer food that heals as much as it delights.
In the end, Mediterranean fat, far from being a guilty excess, is a vital resource. Used with intelligence and respect, it establishes lasting peace with food. For me, it is the unshakable pillar of a way of life that draws on tradition to inform the future of our health. Eating fat means trusting nature.
The dish is finished. My mind is calm. I don't need dessert. Fat has done its work of peace.
