If it can’t be made in a peasant kitchen, it’s not worth eating.
Whole, simple, and sacred: the way I eat is rooted in ancestral wisdom, guided by intuition, and tested daily in my own cast-iron kitchen.
When people ask how I eat, I usually smile and say: “close to the Maker’s Diet, but with my own twist.”
The Maker’s Diet, rooted in biblical wisdom and traditional foodways, has always resonated with me. But I’ve adapted it into something more intuitive, practical, and alive. I call it Mariel’s Maker’s Diet.
At its heart is one simple philosophy: if it can’t be made in a peasant kitchen, it’s likely not worth eating.
This means food that is whole, nourishing, and close to the earth; not engineered in a factory. Here’s how that looks for me:
Proteins
I choose beef, lamb, chicken, turkey, salmon, and wild game when I can find it. I also enjoy pork and shellfish. These were restricted under Jewish kosher law, but in the Christian tradition they are not, and for me they fit into a balanced, grateful approach to eating.
Dairy & Ferments
Kefir is my daily ritual. I also enjoy yogurt, butter, ghee, cream, and cheeses, with raw dairy when available. Fermented vegetables (sauerkraut, kimchi) keep my digestion strong and my meals lively.
Fats & Oils
Butter, ghee, coconut oil, and olive oil are my staples. Bacon fat is a welcome flavour in my kitchen. Seed oils and margarine never make the cut: no peasant kitchen ever pressed canola, corn, or soy into oil.
Plant Foods
Vegetables in all forms: cooked, raw, or fermented. Fruits in season: watermelon in summer, citrus in winter, berries when they call to me. Herbs and spices for flavour, cleansing, and vitality.
Extras & Cleansing
Molasses or maple syrup for natural sweetness, sparingly. Psyllium husk and herbal teas for cleansing. Fasting, breathwork, prayer, and meditation are as much nourishment as food itself.
This is not a rigid set of rules. It is a way of eating that is grounding, energizing, and deeply human. Mariel’s Maker’s Diet honours ancestral wisdom, but adapts to the realities of today.
It’s about simplicity, gratitude, and remembering that the best foods are the ones your great-grandmother would still recognize.
Haiku
In humble kitchens,
rich flavours sing from the earth:
nourishment made whole.