Food for Thought and Memory

Food for thought and memory

Whenever I think about the mouth watering aroma of some special meal, cooking in the oven, I have to wonder at all of the meals I have consumed and appreciated in the past. At 57 years of age, I must have eaten enough food, over the years, to provision the Chinese Army during a month's maneuvers.

There were times, when finances were tighter, that I appreciated the simple things. A baked potato, served piping hot and smothered in butter often made my mouth water. Mashed potatoes, awash in gravy, even now make my taste buds perk up to listen. But then, when you are of Hibernian extraction, the fascination with potatoes is both genetic and culturally ingrained.

And those other times, when Lobster and salmon and many beautifully presented "others" sat waiting for me to devour them? What of them? Funny, but I can scarce remember them. My memories of food are "two dimensional," sort of flat and sketchy. I can't seem to grasp the full gustatory onslaught that is the imposing assault on the senses of a real "belly stretcher."

It is the memories of associative events that I most remember, like holiday meals with the family, many delightful evenings soirees with my charming wife in scores of venues on three continents. For these are the "three dimensional meals that give shape and substance to the food that I have eaten on these occasions. The laughter, the warmth and affection are complimentary to the food consumed, enhancing its pleasure immeasurably.

Maybe it was the silk chocolate pie in Maxim's of Paris, or some delightful ice cream concoction in "George's" on the Via Venetto in Rome. Or, was it the Lobster in any number of Caribbean islands that I most remember? And it is because of the joy that I experienced with them, that I remember these foods. In and of them selves, I seem to have little remembrance of the actual taste of the food item, however artfully constructed. It is sort of like watching a color television that conveys a picture in black and white. You get the basic picture and it is sort of the same thing, but not quite as rich or enjoyable.

And were I, like many of our brethren across the globe, hungry and forlorn, then any crust of bread or bowl of soup would seem like the most heavenly meal I could ever experience. And I too would enjoy watching them eat their fill. The smile on their face would make me long remember that special meal as well. Like most things I guess, food has to be considered in the context in which we receive it and how we then appreciate the bounty that we are given.

And when I say Grace before a meal and thank the Lord for that which I am given, I try to be appreciative for the full bounty that I receive. And in this spirit, I remember all of the meals I get as one more occasion to celebrate life. And there are no better memories of food to harbor than that.

Joseph Xavier Martin