Life is a Feast

Today marks the one year anniversary since I started writing this blog. On July 27 of last year I wrote of it being “A Time to Eat,” a moment where we should be free to engage in the pleasures of food, to truly taste and appreciate all that food has to offer.

One year later it still is a time to eat, and yet my perception of food has changed over the last year. Sitting down to write about food a few times a month has further engrained in me, not only an appreciation for food, but all that motivates that desire for and the appreciation of the flavors of both food and life.

It is also a time of change. Much has changed for me over the last year—there have been ups and downs, love and anger, laughter and tears, and stress and relaxation. I finished my master’s degree, got myself accepted into a doctoral program, traveled to new places, reconnected with many old friends and made some new ones as well. Now I’m preparing to leave my job, relocate to a different state, and start a new chapter in my life.

And food has been there the whole time. Despite all the changes in my life it still remained a time to eat. I continued to engage with food on a daily basis and found that I could pour desire, confusion, or whatever emotion I was feeling into cooking or eating or discovering something new about food. I recognized that food has been used this way for ages, that it is a means to connect with people around the world and in the past. That it is a way to discover insights into the minds and stomachs of people who live far away or existed long ago.

Over the past year I also realized that a dish of food could be deconstructed—that each component could be traced back to different roots and that they carried different stories. Each bite can offer something along the lines of time travel into the past of each ingredient and the memories inherent in different foods.

I’ve traveled and written of travels and how food informed me about a place. In Albany I dreamed big while attempting to glean the gems of the Albany dining scene—the restaurants that help to satiate the growing foodie population in the Capital Region. In Hawaii I experienced perfection on the beach. In New York I tasted decadence. I reflected on delicate Loch Fyne oysters in England. The world quivered in each bite in each dish in each restaurant or kitchen—it filled the food with connections to lives and loves and births and deaths. Each little ingredient reacting to and experiencing the circumstances of the world until it eventually make its way to be eaten by you.

On this blog I also introduced the songs and quotes of the week to feature others who have reflected on food or created art that is crafted around the experience of eating. We’ve read the words of people throughout the ages who have waxed eloquent on food and eating, and we’ve listened to songs by musicians whose topics ranged from strawberry fields to eating grits for dinner to cooking breakfast for the one she loves.

For restaurant reviews I linked my blog to Urbanspoon, which has yielded over a thousand views by complete strangers. The numbers are bit mind boggling to me, as the current count is 789 views of my Hawaii restaurant reviews, 68 for Albany, and 308 for New York City, but I have to admit it’s pretty sweet.

I wrote of food in the context of various topics, such as sex, painting, and memory. Is there anything that food can’t be connected with? Does it not weave seamlessly into our lives? These connections will continue to be topics on this blog, and I’m always open to new suggestions from all you foodies out there.

Overall it’s been a good year for writing about food. There have been plenty of tasty meals, great people, and amazing times in my feast of life. And I’m sure there’s much more of it all headed my way…

Quote of the Week: Truly Great Meals

“Context and memory play powerful roles in all the truly great meals in one’s life.”

—Anthony Bourdain

The Past Isn't Dead

For those of you interested in history, you may want to check out my new history blog, The Past Isn't Dead, at http://thepastisntdead.blogspot.com/

Enjoy!

Nourishment for the Heart, Soul, and Mind

Throughout the year we nourish ourselves not only with food but with our connection with others. On this New Years Eve, I’m sad to say that one individual who truly nourished the lives of other with wisdom, grace, and kindness passed way just yesterday on December 30, 2009. Her name is Dr. Margaret Wade-Lewis, and I’m honored that she was both my professor and advisor when I studied with her at SUNY New Paltz. She served as the chair of the Black Studies Department and was the director of the Scholar’s Mentorship Program at SUNY New Paltz. Throughout her life she impacted the lives of countless individuals, both inside and outside the classroom. There is both sorrow and sweetness as I recall the memories surrounding this inspirational woman—sorrow in the loss, and sweetness in the moments I spent with her. 

Dr. Wade-Lewis touched the lives of many students, colleagues, friends, and family members—and she will be missed by all. There were some days I walked into her classroom empty, and she filled me with knowledge or hope or confidence. Although she has now passed, her memory will continue to nourish our lives.

Her influence went far beyond the classroom, and she will not be forgotten. Her memory lives on in all who were touched by her. In the excitement of welcoming in the new year, I hope that all who knew her will take a moment to reflect on the life of this amazing and inspiring woman. In the New Year of 2010 I wish you all the companionship of people who can offer the same nourishment for your heart, soul, and mind as Dr. Wade-Lewis did for so many in her life. Have a happy and healthy New Year everyone.

Should old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

The new year brings us hope for peace,
A new day for mankind,
Where we can all live hand in hand
And leave all hate behind.

For auld lang syne, my dear.
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne.

When dreams they seem so far away,
Your soul can feel so low.
But love is never far away;
Your heart won't be alone.

Let's make a world where people care,
A world that knows no fear,
Where we can open up our hearts
And hold each other dear.

Our children grow, they need to know
The Future's theirs to hold.
If we can teach them how to love
Then the world can carry on.

For auld lang syne, my dear.
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne.

Food as Text

Food is made up of a multitude of components. These different components are weaved together like threads to form one composite—like a text that can be read and interpreted. Those threads can be interrogated, deconstructed, and traced back to other composites of other objects, people, events, and ideas. Just as Proust’s Madeline triggered a string of memories in his mind, so can each piece of food or each dish carry an individual in countless directions. 

So what is food composed of if we look at it as text for deeper understanding? Food is not simply a conglomerate of different ingredients, though those ingredients may be the most obvious of the threads that make up a particular food. There are ingredients or nutritional elements, yes, but there are also scientific processes, chemicals, scents, flavors, memories, agriculture, and cultural meanings that are embedded within each dish. And these are only a few of the threads that can compose food. Two individuals who interact with same piece the food could be led in completely different directions on various threads. The reading of the text is unlimited, and there is an undeniable synergy as the components meld together. 

Take the apple for example. On one level, it is simply a fruit from a deciduous tree, with the scientific name malus domestica. It was one of the first fruits to be cultivated by humans and comes in a variety of breeds with different flavors, textures, and shapes. Apples can be sweet or tart, green, red, or yellow, and be used to make a variety of dishes. 

Beyond the basic components of the apple are the cultural meanings. As with most foods, there exists cultural constructions, symbols that we all appreciate. One might think of the healthy associations with the apple, and the phrase “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” might be uttered in one’s thoughts. It could also trigger the knowledge of Apple as a technological empire, indicating that at least one cultural thread leading out of the apple is tied to business and technology. 

There is also everything that surrounds the production of the apple, whether it’s plucked from the tree of a local farm or packaged in a plastic bag at a corporate supermarket. The piece of fruit’s waxy skin could be coated with pesticides or remain unaltered by chemicals. The tree could have sprung up in the forest on its own or a grower could have created hybrids and altered its genes, reflecting in one apple the ability of nature to produce a glorious yet simple bit of nourishment, yet also showing the potential of humanity’s power of technology and science. 

The apple could be found on the tree, at the store, on the kitchen table, in a lunch box, cut into French fry shapes at a fast-food restaurant, coated in caramel, or sliced in half and dipped into paint to create art. It could be stuck with objects to create a little apple person, thrown at someone, mashed into apple sauce, or used it as a symbol of New York state. Within this one piece of fruit each of these possibilities is apparent, and the context of the apple can change its meaning at any given moment. 

An individual’s involuntary memory could also be sparked by the simple interaction with the apple. Viewing the apple could conjure memories of apple picking as a child—of steaming hot cider, hay rides, and warm cider donuts. It could bring one back to the feeling of a simpler time of childhood and invoke a sense of the past. Perhaps the sight of an apple could conjure images of the biblical Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. 

Smelling the apple could trigger memories of apple-scented perfume, shampoo, or soap. What and who does the smell remind the individual of? Could it be a friend, a family mother, a stranger on the bus? And what memories do these references lead the individual to remember? It could lead to memories of the smell of apple blossoms, blooming just when the pear trees in the next orchard over are becoming bare and stark against the gray sky. Tasting the apple could remind one of grandma’s sweet apple pie, crisp leaves, and the scent of a loved one’s warm home on a cool autumn day. The sweet little bite could bring a sense of comfort in the midst of a hectic day—offering a relief with the taste of one of nature’s creations. The touch of the apple and its smooth waxy skin could remind one of the feel of the baseball, transferring the individual to a little league game or Yankee Stadium. 

Each apple, each cup of tea, each chocolate chip cookie, each piece of sushi, each grain of rice in each piece of sushi…they all have the ability to bring the individual on a journey through all of its components, to trigger memories, and conjure up cultural meanings. 

Everything in our lives is potentially a text for deeper seeing, understanding, and interpreting. All that potential is inherently present, whether it’s one’s sense of identity, a television show, or an old letter discovered in an attic. Food is no different. Rather than mindlessly eating, one can allow each interaction with a dish to be an opportunity to unravel the threads and experience the potential in each bite.

Woodstock: Three Days of Peace and Music…and Food?

As much as we’d like to believe it, the hippies and radicals of the sixties did not survive on peace, love, and happiness alone. This weekend, on the fortieth anniversary of Woodstock, when most are thinking about the music and momentous event, it is curious to contemplate what the people at Woodstock actually ate during the three days of peace and music that took place in Bethel, New York from August 15–17, 1969. I recently interviewed one individual who attended Woodstock, and he had some interesting recollections of food at the concert:

“I had tickets, $18.00 I think, for three days—Friday through Sunday. My twentieth birthday was on Thursday. We had heard that they limited the sale of tickets— I don’t remember how many were available, but the tickets were easy to get and concession stands and port-o-sans would be available, as well as ample camping grounds.

To be sure we got there we left the Bronx in the Volks at about 5 am on Friday. I’m not sure how far it was—or exactly where it was. We brought a cooler with beer and sandwiches for the day and cash for the concession stands.

Friday was folk music day and I liked that—I wanted to hear Richie Havens, Tim Hardin, and Joan Baez. By the time we got off Route 17 around Monticello—that was it—we simply stopped moving miles away. We ate the sandwiches while waiting, and that was the end of the food we brought as I knew it.

I left the car—to walk and see how long the wait was—and that was the end of my connection with the folks I went with.

We had a plastic tent and sleeping bags. It was so crazy—I never got back to car and never saw my friends again.

And as far as food goes—on Friday night I went to the concession stands and stood on line, in the dark and a light rain, I guess for about an hour. And they spread the word—no more food unless for an emergency. Strange feeling, but it was about 1 am and Joan Baez was coming on.

Then for no reason folks just began passing around food—chips, bread, water in jugs. From the stage a guy announced that we should share what we had, and everyone just did—imagine. All sorts of food was everywhere that night. Some were grilling hot dogs and handing them out. Others had candy bars. Amazing, really, to this day

Saturday morning was tough. What I remember most was being up all night and it was like a sticky, smelly jungle. The port-o-sans were really unusable, and the music wasn't going to start till noon, but it wasn't raining.

I walked into the hills to look for my friends. Instead there were trucks and flatbeds—I still don’t know how they got there. But, food was being handed out. There were paper cups of something called granola—it was new to me—by folks from a place called the Hog Farm…all an accident. I waited in line for a cup of soup—I had a blanket with me, but my little plastic tent had been demolished overnight. I mentioned to someone in line that I’d lost both my tent and my friends and had no place to stay—then from all around me I heard strangers saying, “Stay with us” and “No, you can stay in our tent!” I realized at that moment that something remarkable was taking place.

I stayed, ate, and went swimming—I felt pretty good and the Hog Farm folks were cool. I remember beans too, cooked, and again they passed around jugs of water.

Later that day when the DEAD were on stage they announced that the Hog Farm had set up in the back and had food. (Note: I remember thinking that the Grateful Dead and Janis Joplin weren’t that great.)

I walked back and on the way some folks just handed out bread with jam spread—good. I didn't leave—Santana was amazing. I just found out recently that they were still unknown and had not released an album yet, but I heard about them somewhere.

By night I was beat and the rain was coming again. I paid for some beer—cheap but I paid a guy—and went to the back. They said there was a lost-and-found sign board. So funny—crazy stuff was written on it. Someone ought to write just about that sign board.

I was thinking of leaving, but rumors were spreading that Dylan was coming…he didn't. But I’m glad I stayed—I went back to the lake. Now that I think about it, it was a long walk. I met some folks swimming at night.

Then the showers began…

I got back to the stage—I always managed to get right up front—and I was by myself. Sly and the Family Stone was incredible, and then at about 2 am, I think, THE WHO. Everyone loved it. And everyone was talking about the coming rain storm.

Sadly, I left and hitched a ride back to Monticello—no problem. I got there about 5 am— they had tables with food everywhere. I have no idea who did that, but I ate—a lot— including hot eggs.

I waited for the bus for about two hours and got to Port Authority in New York City at about 11 am Sunday. The bus was free—no one had any money. I was glad I left when WNEW Radio talked about the storm on Sunday.

I missed Joe Cocker and Jimi, but I was never hungry. But I wonder—would I now eat whatever was handed to me? Would I be so cool about drinking out of a jug of water passed along a line? I know never ate, and never will eat, granola again. Sorry Hog Farmers, but thank you for the soup…”

The Hog Farm referenced above was a commune headed by Wavy Gravy (who would later be memorialized as a Ben & Jerry’s ice-cream flavor). The Hog Farmers were stationed in New York City when they were asked to participate in Woodstock and help build trails and fire pits. The commune also volunteered to set up a free kitchen—a simple notion that ended up providing many a concertgoer with food and water. After their supplies ran out, Hog Farmers went to local farms and bought up all the available produce so they could continue feeding the masses at Woodstock. Granola, which is common today, was first given to a large amount of people at Woodstock. It had already been created, but few people knew about it. Apparently, many people were confused by its appearance and did not realize that it was food at first—they thought that it was gravel.

Here are some other recollections of food at Woodstock that are excerpted from Woodstock: Peace, Music & Memories by Brad Littleproud and Joanne Hague

“I remember having a bonfire one night and trying to make the world’s biggest marshmallow on a snow shovel by melting bags of marshmallow together”
—Jean Nichols, a Hog Famer

“We made blueberry pancakes on our Coleman stove! The blueberries were picked from some bushes that surrounded our meadow and someone had brought boxed pancake mix. Our pancakes stuck without any oil, but we didn’t care. They were so good!”
—Randy Sheets

“There was always some kind of food available. There were certain areas where you needed to buy it, but you really didn’t need money, most of the people just welcomed you in. Whatever you needed seemed to be available through the people. It was very much communal living in the hippie sense.”
—Alan Futrell

Want to know more about Woodstock?

Check out the Woodstock Museum at the Bethel Woods Center for the Arts—it’s well worth a visit! The museum is informative and interactive, and you can also visit the field where it all happened: http://www.bethelwoodscenter.org/museum.aspx

A documentary entitled Woodstock, directed by Michael Wadleigh, was released in 1970: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0066580/

The film Taking Woodstock, directed by Ang Lee, will be released on August 28, 2009. Check out the trailer:



A plethora of books were released this summer to mark the fortieth anniversary of Woodstock. Some titles include:

The Road to Woodstock, by Michael Lang
Back to the Garden: The Story of Woodstock, by Pete Fornatale
Woodstock: Peace, Music & Memories, by Brad Littleproud and Joanne Hague