cigar or drank a glass of wine. Here, however, I shall take the liberty to defy that convention and to tell you that the lunch on this occasion began with soles, sunk in a deep dish, over which the college cook had spread a counterpane of the whitest cream, save that it was branded here and there with brown spots like the spots on the flanks of a doe. After that came the partridges, but if this suggests a couple of bald, brown birds on a plate you are mistaken. The partridges, many and various, came with all their retinue of sauces and salads, the sharp and the sweet, each in its order; their potatoes, thin as coins but not so hard; their sprouts, foliated as rosebuds but more succulent. And no sooner had the roast and its retinue been done with than the silent servingman, the Beadle himself perhaps in a milder manifestation, set before us, wreathed in napkins, a confection which rose all sugar from the waves. To call it pudding and so relate it to rice and tapioca would be an insult. Meanwhile the wineglasses had flushed yellow and flushed crimson; had been emptied; had been filled. And thus by degrees was lit, half-way down the spine, which is the seat of the soul, not that hard little electric light which we call brilliance, as it pops in and out upon our lips, but the more profound, subtle and subterranean glow which is the rich yellow flame of rational intercourse. No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself. We are all going to heaven —in other words, how good life seemed, how sweet its rewards, how trivial this grudge or that grievance, how admirable friendship and the society of one’s kind, as, lighting a good cigarette, one sunk among the cushions in the window-seat.”

Of course I have a reason to quote Woolf so long in an article about Fatih Akin’s Soul Kitchen. In order to understand why, first you have to see the film and then you have to read the quotation above with a tolerant respect to the breathe of ‘seeming endless commas and sentences’ of Virginia. Because according to me, Soul Kitchen is a different version of the sentences above which is simplified and reflected from Akin’s mirror. When Virginia tells about the novelists that hasn’t got a respect on food in their writings you can see the mad Shayn of Soul Kitchen in her irony and anger. Look at this ‘Beadle himself perhaps in a milder manifestation, set before us, wreathed in napkins, a confection which rose all sugar from the waves. To call it pudding and so relate it to rice and tapioca would be an insult.’ Wouldn’t it remind you that afrodisiac desert that puts a bomb to the Kitchen?

All the sentences of Woolf are mirrors of the ‘making food scenes’ from Soul Kitchen. And the music of the film which takes our hearts certainly are not different from the music and the rhytm of the sentences of Virginia: outbursting! And finally, the reason of the simple story with a huge success is nothing more than that light we feel after a good meal which the writer tells. The examples can be listed like this page by page. But those ones are enough to prove the similarity of the pieces. And the things they want to tell: Life is just simple… Sometimes one just want to feel it. After a good meal he wants to smoke and think that life’s how brilliant and gorgeously beatiful despite the pain, death, heart aches and etc… As Virginia said: “No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself. We are all going to heaven —in other words, how good life seemed, how sweet its rewards, how trivial this grudge or that grievance, how admirable friendship and the society of one’s kind, as, lighting a good cigarette, one sunk among the cushions in the window-seat.”