Food is an interesting concept for a young Jewish man, as much of the Jewish culture is focused on eating. It’s a stereotype, but it’s true. Consistently trying to eat more horseradish and Matzos, chicken liver and charoset, creates something my family calls a “tough stomach.” An ailment I fortunately never developed. My family’s love of food was encouraged by my mother who cooks unbelievable meals with enthusiasm and excitement, always interested in our first bite reaction. And my father, a man who truly knows the definition of roasting a chicken. Dinner was something neither my sister nor I enjoyed missing. Every night was a new experience of some exotically cooked dish. The food became much more than simply dinner, it was a reason for our family to meet, discuss the dishes in front of us, and share our selves with each other.
Eating food, and really tasting it, is something I truly enjoy, I admit to being a critic, a food snob. Maybe I can partially attribute this to my mother for feeding me real food instead of baby food when I was a baby, or having been raised in an area of the country renowned for its wine and restaurants. Where there is good wine there is bound to be good food. And while I’m picky about the quality of the food, I am not very picky about the type of food; American, Asian, and Mexican it’s all good. When I was a kid, I always liked to offer some weird type of sushi to one up my squeamish friends. Then watch him cringed at the sight of me eating on raw fish eggs wrapped in sea weed.
I am able to describe the taste and texture of most foods almost to a tee. I like to say that if you were to put four different types of coffee in front of me, I would be able to tell the difference between all four. I believe that my tasting ability comes from two completely different sides of the taste spectrum. My father has taste buds that have more of a resemblance to steel than to taste buds. I’m not saying his taste is bad, but he is able to eat combinations of flavors that just don’t seem like they would go together. Cream cheese and olives, peanut butter and jelly and cream cheese, Ketchup and anything really, these are some of his staples. Watching him I learned how to mix and match foods that would seem never to fit together. But when the flavors collaborate, they amuse your taste buds; ketchup, cottage cheese, and blue diamond almonds.
My mother on the other hand came from a family of five that served hamburger helper and noodles with bread topped with butter and sugar as a substantial side. They were able to stretch recipes with creativity and more sensitive taste buds. I not only learned to like strange food but I learned to be creative with recipes and ingredients. My mom likes to tell me that I developed a mature pallet at a very early age. Although I am sure that eating Gelfilte fish helped, in reality, it only opened my eyes to what the world of food could offer me. The point I am trying to make is that food does not scare me. Man vs Food is a fight I would win. Put some weird looking dish in front of me and I will try it, from cereal to cow tongue burritos. My parents never insisted that I finish all the food on my plate. I’d eat until I was full. Strangely enough, not only did I have more energy than everyone else, but I think it is also why I enjoy all types of food. Understanding what feeling full is, helps keep food in perspective. I understand that a 6 ounce lamb chop seared in cherry sauce with mashed potatoes and asparagus can taste better and be just as filling as a 32 ounce rib eye that is undercooked and takes up your whole plate.
I’ve learned a lot from my relationship with food. How food enhances relationships, helps create memories and creates a connection between people. I think my own relationship with food has shown me that there is much you can learn about someone based upon their relationship with food. Understand that and you will understand a lot about the person.