A Roaming Plate

I love to travel and experience new things. This might come from the fact that I’ve moved all over the country and never really stayed in one place for too long. Some may think that there’s some psychological issue with that, but it makes me who I am. Because of this, food for me has really strong cultural ties.

The makeup of our family meals, in a way, reflects where we’ve been and where we’d like to go. The majority of my childhood was spent in Albuquerque, a city rich with culture and vibrant flavors. One of my favorite dishes that my mom makes is enchiladas. It’s a pretty basic meal consisting of corn tortillas, beans, enchilada sauce, cheese, meat, and often green chile; however her enchiladas are a bit different than most. Since the majority of the food in New Mexico has a Hispanic influence and is prepared so regularly, the methods in which such dishes are constructed vary. Sure, I’ve had traditional enchiladas, but the way that I’ve always known the homemade variety would be similar to Italian lasagna. Instead of rolling the tortilla around the filling, they are layered and baked. This is simply one example from a pin we’ve left on the map.

The holidays are obviously a time dominated by tradition. As I’m sure you’ve already guessed, there’s certainly a twist to this as well. Thanksgiving is classic and can’t be touched. Our table always has the full American spread with smoked turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, some sort of “healthy” green food, rolls, and usually enough pie to please every critic. But then Christmas comes and it’s as if the maps are unrolled, the globe scrutinized and the Google searches are endless. Every year for Christmas my family chooses a different country or culture to inspire our holiday meal. Some years it’s chosen based on a place we miss, but others it’s a place we wish we could venture to. We’ve done Spanish Mediterranean, Cajun, northern Italian, German, and few others. To us, one of the best ways to get to know a culture is to get a taste of its food- literally.

As I said earlier, travel is a big part of my life. Within the first few weeks of being born I was already on a airplane. As a kid I basically started my own collection of those little plastic wings the flight attendants give out. Nevertheless, there’s definitely more to travel cuisine than peanuts and a complimentary beverage. I always make it a goal of mine, wherever I go, to try the food that the region is known for; their absolute best, signature masterpiece that cannot be duplicated elsewhere. For example, while in Alaska: moose, Seattle: halibut, Jordan: baklava, New Orleans: jambalaya and beignets, Israel: shawarma, Chicago: deep-dish, Calgary: poutine and the list goes on! So much can be learned just by embracing the basics of a people.

It’s not just about learning the culture or customs though; there’s more to it than that. There’s something to be said about the people you eat the meal with. Eating is communal and a moment becomes wonderful when you can take the time to eat with someone new and really get to know them- to hear a bit of their life’s story. One meal in particular stands out when I think of the people I’ve dined with throughout my life. Roughly five years ago I was in downtown Kansas City, MO volunteering at the rescue mission. After all the men were served we got to go sit down and eat with them. Some I was with, heard heart wrenching stories of how a successful father had lost it all- his job, his house, his wife and his kids- which put him out on the streets; but a friend and I talked with this other gentleman and the topic I recall vividly- food. We talked about what we liked and what we didn’t. I remember we all laughed when he told us he was allergic to kiwi. Who’s allergic to kiwi?! Yet, to this day I can tell you that his leg would swell up if he ate such a fruit.

It’s the beautiful relationships that make a meal, and a meal that allows one to connect . . . everything. I’m truly blessed to have had these amazing experiences and all those that are to come. There are plenty of days that I’ll take a meal for granted, everyone seems to. But the days that I allow myself to slow down and become fully alive with the world around me, those are the days I remember. No matter where I am, food remains in the center of it all, and I expect that it will always do so. Culture, to me, is food. And food can bring a culture to life especially when shared with those around you.