More than a Meal

I love to travel and experience new things. This might come from the fact that I have moved all over the country and never really stayed in one place for too long. Some may think that there is some psychological issue with that, but it makes me who I am. Because of this, food for me has really strong cultural ties and I have seen this notion proven true for others as well. Food easily becomes a human identifier defining everything we are. The flavors are irrelevant, satisfaction is secondary and the appearance is simply an accessory; it is the experience which is the true paradigm and most significant aspect of eating because it adds sentimental value to the meal causing it to last beyond that moment.

The makeup of our family meals, in a way, reflects where we have been and where we would 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 is 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 have had traditional enchiladas, but the way that I have 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 have left on the map.

The holidays are obviously a time dominated by tradition. As I am sure you have already guessed, there is certainly a twist to this as well. Thanksgiving is classic and cannot 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 is chosen based on a place we miss, but others it is a place we wish we could venture to. We have 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 an airplane. As a kid I basically started my own collection of those little plastic wings the flight attendants give out. Nevertheless, there is 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.

Sometimes it is not the culture that creates the food, but rather the food that determines the culture. A strong example of this can be seen throughout America in coffee shops. The relaxed, casual atmosphere of coffee shops is what makes them so inviting. Not only do the chairs or beverages contribute to this overall feeling, but the mild music playing in the background, often referred to as “coffee shop” music, adds to the ambiance. Nonetheless, coffee shops have become their own culture. Every time I go home I always find myself in the same local coffee shop I’ve always gone to called BlackDog. Throughout high school BlackDog was my study spot, on weekends it was where I met friends and continues to be a great place to unwind. Walking through the door is the same each time: the colorful chalk menu is behind the counter, there is a glass case to the right of the register supplied with pastries, the art of local photographers or painters lines the walls in a modern display, the owner is usually conversing at the end of the bar with a costumer, the majority of the customers are patrons or employees from BlackDog even on their days off, laptops are open and headphones plugged in, some people are reading or drawing, etc. There is particular type of individual that can be expected to occupy one of these tables- someone who is artsy and unique; able to establish themselves without input from others put certainly not oblivious to the major social trends.

Mathew Klickstein wrote an article for the Colorado Daily focusing on the culture these coffee shops. He discusses the importance that coffee has played over the years, but also how it is changing with the addition of technology to our society. Klickstein explains that some shop owners will intentionally install poor Wi-Fi and fewer outlets to ensure focus on community social interaction rather than bringing the office to a new location. He also discusses the importance of keeping the local coffee shop culture alive while the franchising market, for companies such as Starbucks, continues to expand (Klickstein).

There is also something to be said about the people you share a 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 have 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 did not. I remember we all laughed when he told us he was allergic to kiwi. Who is allergic to kiwi?! Yet, to this day I can tell you that his leg would swell up if he ate such a fruit.

No matter who you are, or what background you come from, food becomes your identity whether you like it or not. Taste is one of the five senses that allows us to travel through time to a place or memory that is instilled within us. Though I never would have expected it, this is exactly what happened to me while in the Middle East last summer. Just the taste of cinnamon, cardamom, cucumbers and tomatoes, and the combination of lemon with a hint of mint allows me to travel once again overseas into the rich, hospitable Arab culture. This is similar to Geoff Nicholson’s writing, Eating White, in that Nicholson intentionally eats specific foods that he knows will awake cherished memories. Though he searches for the authenticity of white, English Cheshire cheese, he is unable to match his mother’s cooking (Nicholson 21). In the same way, since returning to the states it has been impossible to replicate the vibrate flavors that I experienced while abroad. Every once in a while I will make a sandwich containing only hummus, cucumbers and tomatoes to take me back to the countries that impacted my life more than I could have imagined; but no ingredients could contain the richness that the true, local produce did.

Roy Ahn also accounts his connection to traditional Korean food in his essay Home Run: My Journey Back to Korean Food. Ahn explains that through his teenage years, he attempted to disown his Korean heritage in an effort to connect better with his American friends. By renouncing the ethnic cuisine of his native country, Ahn eventually realized that he was also losing a part of his character. After returning to a Korean restaurant,  Ahn was ashamed that he lost the ability to order the traditional dishes like he once could and also could no longer regain that ability after his parents’ deaths thirteen years prior (Ahn 12-14). All in all I think it is fair to say that food connects both memories and experiences together in a unique way. There is nothing quite like it and it is unable to be accomplished with the same intensity by any other sense. No matter what, the food we grew up with, or experience throughout our walks of life, determines who we are and the flavors become irreplaceable.

Sometimes we do not choose to abandon our heritage, but rather it simply gets dropped along the way. America is known as the great melting pot; a place where cultures intermingle and overlap. I, like so many other Americans, am a descendent of immigrants. The most prominent culture in my blood comes from my Swedish ancestors who came to America around the 1880s. My great-great-grandmother was known for her Swedish cooking as she had brought over the traditions from the homeland. However, even by the next generation my great-grandmother had intermarried with another culture fusing two forms of cuisine together but diluting the Swedish flavors at the same time. Nonetheless, my mom still remembers the amazing Swedish dishes that she would sometimes eat at her grandmother’s house. For me, I did not disown my culture nor did I wish to extinguish its intensity; it was simply not a part of my life growing up because my family had expanded not only in size or generations but also in the configuration of our ancestry. I still hold importance to my Swedish roots however unlike Ahn’s Korean culture, it will never be a dominant part of my life.

It is the beautiful relationships that make a meal and a meal that allows one to connect . . . to everything. I am truly blessed to have had these amazing experiences and all those that are to come. There are plenty of days that I will 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. As life takes us different places, pieces of the puzzle are picked up and taken along on our journeys. Each story is unique and full of different flavors; we never know what will be added next.