Our Ideas in Progress format is a space to collect and share thoughts, visions and ideas from practitioners in the ecosystem. They invite us to dream collectively and learn to explore what it means to build in community.
Last week, I was in a classic Polish Chicago supermarket with my mum – the kind with an aisle for every Eastern European and Balkan food you can think of. While browsing the produce section, I noticed the biggest batch of dill I had ever seen, bursting with thick stalks, bright yellow umbels, and soft delicate leaves. Next to the dill were short and stout cucumbers ideal for pickling. My interest was piqued.
One thing to know about my family is that when we get together, we love a DIY project. Repairing a fence. Digging up a backyard. Making homemade cheese. This three-week trip to Chicago would be no different. As I eyed the dill and the cucumbers, my culinary spidey sense was tingling. My mum could see the glint in my eyes and nodded in agreement.
Now, as an Eastern European, I am slightly embarrassed to say that I have never pickled anything before. I’ve made kombucha from a SCOBY I inherited from somatic movement practitioner Poh-Eng San. I made farmer’s cheese from a recipe my mum got from her former housecleaning client.
In general, I absolutely love to cook. But I never made “ogórki małosolne” or low-salt gherkins (though even this translation is clunky and hotly debated on Reddit). This is a tried and true Polish summer tradition that turns regular cucumbers into a lightly salted, crunchy, and probiotic-rich snack by “lacto-fermenting” them or relying on friendly bacteria to turn sugars already present into lactic acid. It’s also a low-waste process: you just need a few big jars, cucumbers, water, salt, garlic, horseradish, dill, and a few other spices. Every household has their own spin on it, but here’s a recipe I really enjoyed.
At a time when we are increasingly disconnected from the food we consume, how it’s produced, and the labour and logistics that deliver it to our kitchens, these culinary and cultural traditions feel important to maintain if we are to reimagine a more sustainable future.
We need to know how to grow our own food, preserve it and prepare it. We need to know how to do it using processes from and aligned with the natural world that we’re surrounded by everyday – many of them low-cost or free!
We need to learn the traditions that have been passed down for centuries if not millennia that have been instrumental in human beings being able to survive and thrive collectively; it’s a reminder that we don’t always need to recreate the wheel. Harnessing this requires taking time to listen to and fully take in the world and the people around us, while approaching knowledge and learning with humility and generosity.
I am so grateful that I have my mum and older brother to learn from, as well as many other comrades, peers and community elders. I am so grateful to have access to community spaces like the ones POMOC is building in London and beyond (check out their last event on “Survival – DIYing It”, part of a series to build solidarity between Eastern Europe and other regions). In return, I feel like it’s also my duty to pass down and share this tradition with you all – one that I am still uncovering myself.
What is a process or tradition you’ve always been curious about? How does it connect to or impact the way you work and live?



