How I Taught My Brother To Cook

Improvisational Tuscan-Provençal-Catalan Cookery (and other good stuff to eat)

This little foray I am about to embark on only has meaning for those that, as children, had a good childhood and good food. If this is not the case for you then maybe this is not a blog for your senses.

If you have spent some time on our site you might have gotten the sense of where mine and Johnny's mind sets tend to harbor. Speaking for myself, I spend a good amount of time reaching back into my past and the stuff I ate growing up. We have all heard that smell is a powerful sense which can trigger certain events of the past. This is very true and it has happened to me as it most likely has happened to you. Combine (or not) this sense with taste and you get, in my case, a trip back in time when the world as seen by a child was simple and uncluttered with unnecessary baggage. As one gets older we tend to shed the thought processes and visions of you and take on and embrace the adult world as the "way life really is". Who and when the definition of being an adult and how the world should run came about or set in stone is beyond me. However, as I see it, somebody screwed up somewhere and nobody came along to fix it.

Anyway, all that said, the sense of taste and smell provides me (and others) an escapist opportunity to relive ones youth and, at least for a moment, cast away the woes of our adult world. I enjoy many foods and new creations but nothing can compare to a remembrance and rebirth of a food from one's youth. Once I create these foods and eat them those fond memories come back and a certain degree of satisfaction and "all is well with the world" thoughts momentarily transport me to a better place. This strange phenomena of senses may all be in my head but the good food and simple past are very real and the ability to begin the transportation at any time is right at my finger tips. Time for a pot of slumgullion, the pheasant under glass can wait!

Views: 18

Comment by John Barrows on April 21, 2009 at 12:06pm
There's little doubt that the smalls of our past conjure of intense memories. Patrick returns to the foods of our youth, and has attached fond recollections to them - and he is right. That stuff was, and is, good. I'm glad that it works so well for him. Though I enjoy these foods, my sub-conscious attaches my fondest memories to growing up in New Zealand, running wild on our farm on Wyncoop creek, talking to Uncle Claude ..... the food was great, but for reasons I can't explain here the memories of sitting around the table as a family don't warm my heart.
Comment by Debbie on April 21, 2009 at 2:48pm
I couldn't agree with you more (PB), the smells of certain foods take me back to my Grandmother's house, especially cabbage, to a time when innocence reigned, or at least for the youngnest in us, probably naive, but that was a good thing. Life was simpler. Not food related, but the smell of Wind Song perfume will take me right back to my grandmother's lap, awesome. I have a few memories of eating at home, not many, my mother wasn't much of a cook and we three kids ate at the table in the kitchen while our parents ate on TV trays in front of the telly..........I loved my parent's but I have to say I am so very thankful that my Grandmother happened along!
Comment by victoria marie eastus on April 22, 2009 at 6:10pm
All I can say is wonderfully lovely.


You need to be a member of How I Taught My Brother To Cook to add comments!

Join How I Taught My Brother To Cook

© 2018   Created by John Barrows.   Powered by

Report an Issue  |  Terms of Service