Me and Food
Feb. 10th, 2003 09:20 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tylikI just trimmed and weeded all of my herb garden (the formal herb garden, in back) but the innermost ring. I do this every year, on my knees (well, when my neck is up to it -- most years, anyway). I enjoy it, even if my fingers get so cold they feel like they might fall off. Starting in the East, working around, leaving debris in eight neat piles... And it gives me time to think (as do many of my activities these days, but more on that in another post).
Anyhow, one thing I was thinking about as I pulled huge handfulls of moss out from the chives and discovered that my sweet cicelly is sending rhizomes almost as thick as my wrist out to take over the world (luckily I like sweet cicely) is a few comments people have made to me recently about food. And me being a food snob, for that matter.
I like food. I like cooking. I think y'all probably know that. I'm a little obsessive in some of my cooking habits -- I make most things from scratch and even descend to such absurdities as grinding my own flour, making my own pasta, and heck, trying to grow things to eat or forage for them in the woods (and vacant lots, parks, lawns, riverbanks or wherever else I find interesting stuff).
Some of this is just because it's fun, some of it is because I'm really seriously interested in and commited to the rituals of cooking, eating, giving and getting and all the other interactions between people and other people, and other inhabitants of this world. This is bigger than just cooking, of course, or even than food, but cooking is one of my favorite parts of it.
This has some implications towards what I'll eat. Some of you might remember that I spent several years as a vegetarian. (I never was a "don't kill the cute little animals" vegetarian, it was something I'd considered for a while primarily as an ecological and health thing, took up rather idly on the urgings of my then boyfriend -- who then decided not to become a vegetarian himself, the wretch -- and continued because it worked well.) I'm not anymore. In the middle, I spent a while living in Turkey, and in preparation for that trip decided that being a good and appreciative guest was more important to me than being vegetarian, and so re-introduced meat to my diet. (So that when I ate it in Turkey I wouldn't get sick.)
Did I mention I put a lot of stock in hospitality? Anyhow, over the next several years, I evolved into what I call a philosophical omnivore. I will eat just about anything (at least, of the things that humans call food, and I'm pretty liveral aboutthe things that only small groups of humans call food). It's partly a manifestation of my own sense of multiculturalism, it's partly about hospitality, it's partly because I generally like food, find food interesting and don't want to miss out. And -- perhaps as an extension of the hospitality bit, perhaps out of something like the buddhist bit about being beggars and it not being appropriate to turn something away, I do not feel so rich, or so privledged, as to scorn food that I am offered.
(It doesn't hurt that I was raised in a culturally diverse enough environment that many things others find challenging were part of what I grew up with.)
When I'm cooking for myself, I'll tend towards things that fit my own sense of aesthetics, politics, and health. (Which still tends to cover a lot of area.) I tend towards organic, local, and I don't eat a lot of meat. Other than that, though...
The other side of this has to do with how I feel about food I didn't make. I like eating food that I didn't cook. I consider it an honor to be offered food someone else made. To me this is a big important part of human interactions.
And I'm not picky! Sheesh -- I've been given to understand that a lot of people have been assuming that since I'm really into cooking, and tend to be fairly critical about the food I make, I'll turn up my nose at anything they offer me. This is so far from the truth! I'm critical about the food I make because I made it, and I'd like to continue improving as a cook. And heck, sometimes after spending a couple of hours cooking something, it's surprising I want to eat it at all -- often I can't really taste things appropriately at that time (having had those flavors strongly in my face for the last several hours) and sometimes I won't be able to until the next day.
I like all kinds of food that I don't make. I like macaroni and cheese from a box, from time to time. I like frozen pizza. I like weird deep fried things. And I love it when people cook for me, and am generally well disposed to like what they make.
There are only a few exceptions. I will generally decline -- if I can do so politely -- to eat something I'm fairly certain will make me ill. (I have a limited tolerance for refined sugar, and a much more limited tolerance for it on an empty stomach. Similarly, I go through periods where I'm very sensitive to fatty foods, especially animal fats, though this sensitivity varies greatly.) And I do not, as a general rule, take food from someone I'm angry with. Or someone who is angry with me, for that matter.
Anyhow, one thing I was thinking about as I pulled huge handfulls of moss out from the chives and discovered that my sweet cicelly is sending rhizomes almost as thick as my wrist out to take over the world (luckily I like sweet cicely) is a few comments people have made to me recently about food. And me being a food snob, for that matter.
I like food. I like cooking. I think y'all probably know that. I'm a little obsessive in some of my cooking habits -- I make most things from scratch and even descend to such absurdities as grinding my own flour, making my own pasta, and heck, trying to grow things to eat or forage for them in the woods (and vacant lots, parks, lawns, riverbanks or wherever else I find interesting stuff).
Some of this is just because it's fun, some of it is because I'm really seriously interested in and commited to the rituals of cooking, eating, giving and getting and all the other interactions between people and other people, and other inhabitants of this world. This is bigger than just cooking, of course, or even than food, but cooking is one of my favorite parts of it.
This has some implications towards what I'll eat. Some of you might remember that I spent several years as a vegetarian. (I never was a "don't kill the cute little animals" vegetarian, it was something I'd considered for a while primarily as an ecological and health thing, took up rather idly on the urgings of my then boyfriend -- who then decided not to become a vegetarian himself, the wretch -- and continued because it worked well.) I'm not anymore. In the middle, I spent a while living in Turkey, and in preparation for that trip decided that being a good and appreciative guest was more important to me than being vegetarian, and so re-introduced meat to my diet. (So that when I ate it in Turkey I wouldn't get sick.)
Did I mention I put a lot of stock in hospitality? Anyhow, over the next several years, I evolved into what I call a philosophical omnivore. I will eat just about anything (at least, of the things that humans call food, and I'm pretty liveral aboutthe things that only small groups of humans call food). It's partly a manifestation of my own sense of multiculturalism, it's partly about hospitality, it's partly because I generally like food, find food interesting and don't want to miss out. And -- perhaps as an extension of the hospitality bit, perhaps out of something like the buddhist bit about being beggars and it not being appropriate to turn something away, I do not feel so rich, or so privledged, as to scorn food that I am offered.
(It doesn't hurt that I was raised in a culturally diverse enough environment that many things others find challenging were part of what I grew up with.)
When I'm cooking for myself, I'll tend towards things that fit my own sense of aesthetics, politics, and health. (Which still tends to cover a lot of area.) I tend towards organic, local, and I don't eat a lot of meat. Other than that, though...
The other side of this has to do with how I feel about food I didn't make. I like eating food that I didn't cook. I consider it an honor to be offered food someone else made. To me this is a big important part of human interactions.
And I'm not picky! Sheesh -- I've been given to understand that a lot of people have been assuming that since I'm really into cooking, and tend to be fairly critical about the food I make, I'll turn up my nose at anything they offer me. This is so far from the truth! I'm critical about the food I make because I made it, and I'd like to continue improving as a cook. And heck, sometimes after spending a couple of hours cooking something, it's surprising I want to eat it at all -- often I can't really taste things appropriately at that time (having had those flavors strongly in my face for the last several hours) and sometimes I won't be able to until the next day.
I like all kinds of food that I don't make. I like macaroni and cheese from a box, from time to time. I like frozen pizza. I like weird deep fried things. And I love it when people cook for me, and am generally well disposed to like what they make.
There are only a few exceptions. I will generally decline -- if I can do so politely -- to eat something I'm fairly certain will make me ill. (I have a limited tolerance for refined sugar, and a much more limited tolerance for it on an empty stomach. Similarly, I go through periods where I'm very sensitive to fatty foods, especially animal fats, though this sensitivity varies greatly.) And I do not, as a general rule, take food from someone I'm angry with. Or someone who is angry with me, for that matter.
