About a year ago, I had a crazy idea.
I was walking towards my workplace, feeling elated about the delicious snacks I had packed for my work day. (As an aside, do you often think ahead to what you’re going to eat next? I do it all the time, but maybe that’s just me. Oh no it’s not; my friend Jenny, who has a great craft blog which she’s been writing for years, used to nip off with the recipe books when we flatted together, and they would become lost in the abyss down the side of her bed. But I digress). We’d been eating a lot more plant-based food in our house for the previous few months, and I was getting some of the recipes down to a fine art. I can even tell you what was I was looking forward to – it was a raw chocolate brownie (much like the superfudge recipe I posted a while ago) and a blueberry – banana – oat – maca powder smoothie. I had a big day ahead, but I felt energised and healthy and was looking forward to it; I knew I would be firing on all cylinders because of how good this kind of food was making me feel.
And then I thought to myself – wouldn’t it be great if more people started eating this kind of food? If it was more readily available? If we could go out for morning or afternoon tea and choose something that gives us energy and nourishes our bodies, rather than taxing them as they grind their way through the processed sugar and sodium and additives. Wow – I could start a cafe selling this kind of food. But then I gave myself a metaphorical slap in the face – I have family members who run a wonderful cafe, and I know what incredibly hard work that is, and what long hours it requires. I’m simply not up for that.
Then I had another idea. What if we could teach people to make this kind of food themselves? They don’t have to go out and buy it. It’s not hard to make – it just requires a bit more preparation (sometimes) and a different mindset when shopping for ingredients. I could run classes! And then – narrowly missing being hit by a car on Dunedin’s one-way street system – I brought my focus back to the here-and-now and got on with my day.
I didn’t think too much more about that idea, until a chance meeting (a few months later) at an airport. My partner and I were sitting there, in a cafe, looking at pieces of caramel slice that were larger than some of Fiji’s off-shore islands. And along walked a friend-of-a-friend, and we got chatting. When she left, I thought about how she’d been so brave to follow a dream – she had a creative talent, and she went out on a limb and turned it into a successful business. I thought about how it took courage to start something entirely new. Ping! On went the light again. I looked at the baking in the cafe cabinet and I was back to thinking about great food – incredible food – that looks and tastes delicious, and makes us feel terrific, and how I would love to help people eat more of it.
That was about nine months ago (that part of the story is interesting too, but I’ll tell it another time. There are so many amazing people who’ve inspired and helped me along the way, but if I put them all in one post, you’ll get too caught up looking at all the clever things that they do!). In a nutshell – so to speak – we started running workshops. First for friends, then for friends-of-friends, then colleagues of friends-of-friends, then I knew we’d hit the jackpot when we ran a workshop where I didn’t know a single person. I started developing workshops around different themes, and requests started coming in for workshops on specific topics for private groups. Suddenly life started seeming rather busy, and I had to make sure I paid closer attention when crossing the road, as I was so preoccupied thinking about how exciting it was all becoming.
Last Sunday, we ran our eleventh event. I don’t know if eleven is a particularly auspicious number, but it brought the total of people who’ve been to a Nibl demo or workshop to 101. That does seem pretty cool to me. I got to thinking about those people, and what made them come along. One of them has been to all three workshop topics – so she knows as much about my recipes as I do! At least eleven of them have been to more than one workshop. Lots of people have happily trotted in on their own – and then realised that they knew someone else there, what with Dunedin being a small place and all. Other people have come along with mothers, daughters, sisters, cousins, sisters-in-law, workmates and friends. So far it has been a bit of a girl thing to do, although there have been two men. One of those men is a friend of mine and claimed that I forced him to turn up, although we both know that’s not true. The other apparently signed up willingly (and turned out to be the best possible person for the intricate job that I gave him on Sunday – painstakingly layering a chocolate-caramel mousse tart).
This is awesome! It blows my mind that you can set up something like this and it can work. That you can plan an event, announce it’s happening, and people will sign up (even if they know next-to-nothing about what they’re coming to). It’s a leap of faith on their part and mine. As my friend Sarah (a very talented person) said at Sunday’s workshop, we’re “starting a revolution in our own homes”. Without wanting to sound too evangelical about it all, this is exactly what we’re doing – we’re choosing to feed ourselves and our families and friends better. And then we feel better, and there’s something quite compelling about that – you want more of it, and for the people around you to be in on the action too (if they want to be!).
Thank you sunny Dunedin, you rock! What a great place to start a business like this – where a beautiful venue allows us to use their facilities (even though they didn’t really know us from Adam initially) and word of mouth can spread like wildfire. Cheers Dunedin!
(But please look out for me on the one-way-system – I get distracted sometimes.)
