Through Thick and Thin

One of the greatest things about food is that it brings people together. The classic example, of course is the holidays, namely Thanksgiving. It has always been particularly important in my family, since I am Jewish and we always have sort of a Hannukah/Christmas medley. Every year for Thanksgiving, however, we travel to the home of a different family member to celebrate. Thanksgiving is the time when all my family is together from all over the country, to share and eat even if it is only for a couple days.

It's always mayhem in the kitchen, everyone running around doing various things to prepare for the meal. Jess usually takes charge, directing me towards chopping while she prepares the turkey (or as it was in New Orleans 2005, deep fried turducken). We cook, laugh, and eat, and after the meal suffer together from the food coma.

Another tradition that at first doesn't seem to have much in common with the Thanksgiving is the making of the Obento, a traditional Japanese style lunchbox for preschool children prepared by their mothers. Anne Allison had a lot to say about the importance of the Obento in Japanese culture in her article. The concept of this meticulously created lunch creating a bond between mother and child is a foreign one to American society, but at the same time it is another means by which food brings people together. Allison explains that "Both mother and child are being watched, judged, and constructed; and it is only through their joint effort that the goal can be accomplished." So although the actual eating of the meal doesn't bring the two together because the child is off at school, there is a deeper connection involving the mother's duty in preparing a meal that the child will eat in its entirity.

A lot of what there is to learn about food has to do with it bringing groups of people and even cultures together, but this week I've learned that it doesn't have to be good food to unite people. In fact, strange and even downright bad food does the trick just as well. In class on Wednesday we made Obentos. A lot of the food was strange, like the candied fish that are to be eaten whole and all the variations of pickled vegetables. The neat thing about it was that even though the food was not what we were used to, it got us talking together because we had something in common. I even ran into a few of my classmates after class that I normally wouldn't have talked to had it not been for the strange food. The same thing goes for eating the sometimes underwhelming food in the dorms. Yes, my spaghetti slightly resembled plastic, but at least I got a laugh out of it with the people around me. Whether it's gourmet and delicious, foreign, or just downright bad, the truth is everybody eats and has something to say about it.

'Tis the Season

I went to my sister, Jess's house for dinner the other night. She is a chef and freelance food writer, so naturally I was excited to get over there and see what she had in store for my stomach. To my surprise, we had a bit of a hodgepodge for our meal. She put me right to work, handing me a pair of scissors to get fresh arugula for the salad, after which I made my self busy slicing and arranging various fresh heirloom tomatoes on a plate. I've never really had much of a liking for tomatoes, and everyone used to tell me it was because I'd never had them fresh from the garden. They were right. I started small, tasting a cherry tomato first. Before I could finish chewing I found myself reaching for another! I could practically taste the flavor just by looking at all the vibrant red, green, yellow, and orange colors. Tomatoes aren't just red anymore!

After my enlightenment to the world of fresh vegetables (or is it a fruit?), the strange juxtaposition of seasons in a meal took place. Jess was testing a recipe that is due to be published in Winter 2009. So here I am, eating an array of fresh arugula and tomatoes along side a comforting yet very much meant for winter plate of gourmet mac-n-cheese. How can this happen? Especially during this time of energy crisis when we are all paying so much attention to our affect on the environment? How is it that the people that care the most about food and have so much experience with it are forced to cook out of season to publish a recipe in a magazine?

Maybe it's one of those sacrifices people simply learn to live with. I guess it's easy to compare it with environmentalism. There are a lot of people out there that want to be environmentally conscious but aren't radical enough to completely erase their carbon footprint. Instead they do everything they can, recycle bottles, take shorter showers, but still drive their cars to work when its raining. Maybe in the food world, testing recipes out of season is one of the commodities that can't be sacrificed, simply out of practicality. In that case, we might as well just do what Jess does and make do with the occasional August prime rib, served with a side of guacamole and zucchini.

The Love of my Life

It is said that a person has a limited number of great loves in their life. One of the great loves of my life is spicy food. Spicy food is such a broad category, but I love it all. The most fascinating thing to me about spicy food is that it occurs in all cultures in different forms. From the three-bite curry found in India, to five spice Thai cooking, even to something as simple as Tabasco sauce, spicy food crosses the boundaries of cultures and makes its way onto our tastebuds and into our watering eyes.

Tabasco sauce was where it all started with me. My dad and I would go to Jim's Coffehouse for breakfast. Over the classic eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns breakfast, he would teach me how to draw hyperbolic curves on napkins while breakfast bathed in the classic green pepper sauce. I learned it from him, but I later fed my hunger for spice on my own. I soon began to branch out to peppers, eating them whole or putting slices of jalepenos in my burrito for lunch. When I discovered my love for sushi, the blessing that is wasabi came right along with it.

The challenge that spicy food brings is an invigorating one; trying to hold back the tears that it brings but refusing to reach for that glass of milk. It brings people together, in a sort of fun-loving suffering kind of way. Many people have an "I'll try if you do" kind of attitude when it comes to tasting spicy foods, and many times it results in the classic moment of laughing and crying simultaneously. The beauty of the spice is that it makes food more fun, and there's always a spice for everyone! Wing Dome is a great way to enjoy the diversity of spice, with it's 1-alarm to 7-alarm variety of hot wings.

Spicy food has been a love of mine in all kinds of different forms, that cross cultural boundaries. I hope that someday I can eat my way around the world of spicy food. With a glass of milk at the ready, I know I'll meet my match.