Childhood and Books (among other things)

With our last class approaching and this being my last blog post, I was reflecting on why food is so important to me. I have come to the (rough) conclusion that it is comforting. My parents taught me to cook when I was very young, and I think that most of my childhood was spent in the kitchen. Food is my equivalent of home that I can take anywhere - almost like a security blanket. This is a collection of my favorite stories and experiences of food from my childhood. Some you may know and some you may not, but I highly recommend everything that follows and I welcome you to add your memories and your favorite stories in the comment section below.

This is one of my favorite stories. It is a folktale that I know by hear; it was taught to me through song and the book above. Stone Soup is the story of a traveler who comes across a village where everyone is starving. He convinces the very skeptical villagers that a beautiful round stone can make a perfect soup that will feed the whole village. He throws the stone in a pot and adds some water. After tasting the soup, he comments that it is not quite right. So, he asks the unconvinced audience for an onion. A villager rushes off to get one. After tasting many times, saying it is not quite right and then asking the villagers for more ingredients (each household ending up contributing something), the traveler creates a wonderful soup to feed the whole village (the stone is by the wayside now). Through some clever lying, the traveler is able to help the starving village and himself to the creation of a wonderful meal. I also listened to "Stone Soup" by Tom Chapin. This story always evokes feelings of magic and hoow magic can be found in the everyday mundane things.

This story, I actually didn't recall until I was stumbling around the internet tonight looking for my favorite stories. Once I found it, this elicited a much more fantastical feeling of magic that truly warms my heart. The Magic Porridge Pot is also a folktale. A mother and daughter are hungry and so the daughter goes out into the woods to forage for food. After a long and unfruitful search, the daughter collapses into tears. An old woman appears (like they always do) and gives her a magic pot that will fill with porridge if she says "Boil, Little Pot, Boil." The girl takes this pot happily home to her mother and they are content for many days, at least until the mother forgets the words to make the pot stop making porridge. The porridge starts to cover the entire town and soon everyone  is feasting on porridge by the bucket.

Heckedy Peg is a similar story to that of the previous because of how magical it makes food feel. This story is slightly sadder. A single mother has seven children named for the days of the week. The mother leaves one day for the market and asks the children what they want. They each, of course, want a different type of food. The mother agrees to bring them back what they want and then she departs. Suddenly a witch encroaches on the happiness of the cottage and (as all witches are evil) casts a spell on the children, turning them into food, and carries them off. The mother comes back to find her children gone and in some way or another is pointed to the witch's house. The witch tells the mother that she must identify all her children (who are now food) correctly to reverse the spell. The mother has to use her wonderful powers of memory to recall what the children asked her for and to see what food would go with that dish (for example, one child asked for butter and was turned into bread). In the end, the mother gets it right, foiling the witch's devious plans, and takes her children home.

Too Many Babas perfectly shows why the warning "too many cooks spoil the broth" is true. One Baba is making a soup for her friends. One by one, her friends enter and taste the soup behind this Baba's back. Each thinks of something that will make the soup "better" and proceeds to add it (of course, adding way to much of it). In the end, the soup is awful and the Baba is amused (and slightly angry) by her friends' actions. This story serves as a cautionary tale for me, so now (unless someone explicitly asks me to) I never add to another's dish.

"In an old house in Paris, that was covered in vines, lived twelve little girls in two straight lines." I used to read and watch Madeline's stories when I was young. There was one episode where Madeline goes to cooking school and this definitely increased my desire to cook for reasons other than for family dinners. Upon reflection, it closely parallels my experience at cooking camp two summers ago. Here is the link: Madeline: Little Chefs It is twenty minutes long and I would highly recommend watching it if you have the time.

This story takes place at Christmas. The children are tasked with wrapping the tamales. Prior to starting her work, our protagonist, Maria, tries on her mother's wedding ring. Forgetting she has the ring on her finger she starts making the tamales. When everyone finishes creating tamales, Maria notices that the ring is missing. Of course, she assumes that the ring is hidden in the food and does not want anyone to ingest it (or let her mother know that she was so irresponsible with such a valuable item). So, she enlists her cousins to help her sort through (by eating) all of the tamales. After eating twenty-four total, the mother walks in with the ring on her finger, reminding Maria that she already gave the ring back to her mother. This story always reminds me that worse things could happen in the kitchen than a tray of gnocchi crashing to the ground (which has happened more times in my house than you would expect).

Of course, there are many other favorites of mine (most of which you will recognize): Green Eggs and Ham, select Arthur episodes (including D.W.'s dislike of all things spinach, Buster's competition at Pizza World, and the green potato chip), Pajama Sam's You Are What You Eat (a CD-ROM game), Strega Nona, and If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. 

And finally, my favorite childhood food book. When my sister and I were little we loved trying to find new details in the elaborate images. We always used to read this book before trips (and not at any other time), whether we were the ones leaving or one of my parents was going on a business trip. Probably because of how I thought of traveling when I was young, this book always makes me sad, despite the fact that this book has nothing sad in it. Fanny At Chez Panisse is the story of a girl growing up in a restaurant that her mother manages. Chez Panisse is a real restaurant located in Berkley, California and this story was inspired by one of the manager's daughters. The time it took to read this book aloud perfectly fit into the forty-five minute drive to the airport. 

I wish that I had this book to comfort me on my way home because leaving for the summer feels the same as when I would leave home as a child. 

Before I end, I would like to thank you all very much for being such an amazing class. I will miss our discussions and the blog posts. Thank you for giving me an outlet to think about and discuss food.