I thought I was the only one….The poetry of menus, and the endless possibility of some new flavor, some new fireworks on the tongue, draws me into looking at food sites, menus, locales…I have always been a “foodie”. I remember the first time I experienced food as an “event” and not just fuel for the body. I was fortunate to grow up in New York City, and my mother enjoyed cuisines from around the world and took me with her on her exploration via markets, restaurants and street fairs.
We were having dinner at a small pocket French restaurant, tucked into and upper east side side street, on the second floor of a brownstone. I don’t remember the decor, but I do remember my meal.
Chicken breast in a white wine cream sauce, with grapes and almonds.
The sudden awareness of Taste, with a capital “T”.
The textures, the flavors, the visuals.
I was hooked.
Shortly after that meal, my mother took me to a legendary street fair in Little Italy. I remember the crowds and the heat. The smell of garlic, grilled meat.
The taste of each of my selections which were common items, but the nuance of the festival, the people,and the utter joy I felt in having the choice, and the integrity of solid ethnic food to make that choice from also sticks in my memory.
I have been in love with food for a long time. Battle obesity because of it. Realize that for me, food rivals sex, in terms of pleasure. I was a “super taster” before allergies and age kicked in. I would close my eyes and moan as I ate a savory Thai item, or a simple diner rice pudding. One of my life-long friends said she got a kick out of me enjoying food to that extent. Her taste-buds were long destroyed, a childhood of spoiled and “off” food preventing her from the pleasures of the table.
I moaned as I ate Thai food on a date, eyes closed….And opened them to see a very turned on dining partner. He was sure he was in for a good time in bed with me at some point…After all, it was clear I was a sensualist when it came to food. Surely that extended to other areas of my life?
My spice cabinet is a map of the world…If there was a special salt from Mars, I would be signed up to try it. (Although I am a vegetarian for ethical reasons).
With the right intention (mindfulness!) when preparing a meal, and the international array of seasonings and recipes we are no longer trapped into the boring food which predominated as I was growing up. (TV dinners. Jello, which I consider an abomination. Fake flavored water and gelatin? Ugh! Wiggling Kool-Aid.
How can that compare to the silkiness and crispness of Creme Brulee?
I cannot imagine Spam, McDonalds, frozen pizza as a way of life.
Bring me the feasts of the Medieval dining hall, the meals of emperors tables…But also the thick porridge soup from the black kettle over the fire, the fresh cream-y cheese from the goats in the field, the crusty loaf fresh from the oven. Let us celebrate our world of diverse flavors, and respect the grandma’s who stirred the pot of whatever was at hand for their meal.
Food is spiritual, temporal, and social. But done with intent, consumed with knowledge and gratitude, we become one with each other, and find solace in each pleasing plate before us.