Tag Archives: food

What the Hell is Gastronomy, Anyway?

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May 2010

It’s the million-dollar question that everyone in my program has faced, yet no one seems to have a definitive answer. I have certainly given my 30-second elevator rendition of what gastronomy is (“Well er, it’s not cooking school, it’s sort of about the analysis of food’s role in the world…”), but I still have niggling doubts over whether I am simply talking out of my ass. Which is why I was secretly relieved when we had a seminar on gastronomy and its meaning.

Where do we begin? The English Wikipedia article on gastronomy begins with a broad definition, stating simply that “gastronomy is the study of the relationship between culture and food.” This begs the question of what is culture, but at least it provides a viable starting point for analyzing the breadth of gastronomy. On the other hand, the French Wikipedia article on gastronomy begins with the definition established by the Académie Française, which suggests that gastronomy is the set of social rules that define l’art de faire bonne chère, or the art of giving good cheer. Hmm, that isn’t nearly as engaging a subject.

Then, we launched into a discussion of food porn. Everyone in the class had heard of the phrase, but no one was brave enough to offer a definition. So, we paused to consider the characteristics of sexual pornography. This is definitely a subject befitting serious schoolars, because after all, even the Supreme Court has ruminated over the difference between obscene pornography and art. After some discussion, we decided that porn has many facets, but is generally in some way exploitative, features an idealized representation, and allows for distanced or vicarious enjoyment of the subject. In the same fashion, food porn offers an idealized portrayal of food held at a distance from the viewer. Though perhaps the tomato is not being exploited in the same way that actors in a porn film are.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZVAqNuFXIQ&hl=en_US&fs=1&]

Hmm, I’m not sure if I am any more enlightened than when I started, so I’m just going to sit on this for the next year or so…
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Food Anthropology: Chitalian Cuisine

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Last week, as part of a class on food anthropology, we all had to conduct an ethnographic study of a food production place in town using participant-observation methods (read: hanging out and discreetly taking notes). Rather than choosing one of the town’s many pizzerias or gelato shops, I decided to investigate the one place that has elicited a sort of morbid fascination for me for the last month: The Chinese restaurant in Bra. That’s right, there’s only one, and there isn’t too much other ethnic food in town to speak of, aside from a couple small kebab shops.

After enlisting the help of some comrades who claimed to be strong of stomach, we ventured toward Nin Hao Ristorante on the northern outskirts of town. It was 8 pm on a Monday night, and the restaurant was ostensibly open, but the dining room looked dark from the outside, and there were no signs of life, other than a Chinese man who was sitting on the sidewalk smoking a cigarette. I hesitated and gave a cautious tug on the door. The restaurant was desolate and the lights were even off. At that point, a server marched out, then turned to us with a smile as she flicked the light switch. We turned to each other apprehensively. I don’t know if I have ever dined at an entirely empty restaurant before.
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On Food Writing

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Before you ask, no this isn’t a photo of me, it’s the daughter of a family friend, picking Asian pears in the orchard.

“People ask me: Why do you write about food, and eating and drinking? Why don’t you write about the struggle for power and security, and about love, the way others do?

They ask it accusingly, as if I were somehow gross, unfaithful to the honor of my craft.

The easiest way to answer is to say that, like most humans, I am hungry. But there is more than that. It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it, and the hunger for it…and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied…and it is all one.

I tell about myself, and how I ate bread on a lasting hillside, or drank red wine in a room now blown to bits, and it happens without my willing it that I am telling too about the people with me then, and their other deeper needs for love and happiness.

There is food in the bowl, and more often than not, because of what honesty I have, there is nourishment in the heart, to feed the wilder, more insistent hungers. We must eat. If, in the face of that dread fact, we can find other nourishment, and tolerance and compassion for it, we’ll be no less full of human dignity.

There is a communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk. And that is my answer, when people ask me: Why do you write about hunger, and not wars or love?”

-M.F.K. Fisher, Foreword to The Gastronomical Me