My mom said that I was really hard to care for as a baby. No wonder, I was allergic to over a hundred food items and it was easier to list what I could eat rather than what I couldn’t. Potatoes. Pears. Lamb. Like the shrimp scene in Forrest Gump, my mom made me fried potatoes, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, mashed potatoes, stir-fried potatoes, braised potatoes, five-spice potatoes…
She remembered the multiple, torturous visits to the doctor for dozens of old-fashioned skin prick-tests. I would scream and squirm while the deed was done, over and over. Compared to today, food allergies in the 60’s seemed much less common, and the public and parents, were less aware and informed, especially in immigrant families.
Problems started after breast-feeding stopped and the milk-washing madness began, when I was less than one. After all, babies are supposed to drink cow’s milk, right? Actually, humans are the only ones on earth to drink the milk of another species. Perhaps health clue #1.
I couldn’t hold my milk and no one could sleep. After trying different feeding and soothing methods, my dad, being the problem-solving engineer, thought that holding me upright and still would keep me from spitting up. So after a stand-up feeding, he would remind my mom and sisters repeatedly, “don’t shake the baby” and I would be held at arm’s length with legs dangling. Unfortunately, it didn’t work.
My skin would break into hives and rashes and at 11 months, you didn't think before you itched. I had a perennial blister on my nose from rubbing it against the mattress. My dad, being the evidence-based research scientist, wanted to test the allergy theory. He dipped a chopstick in the egg yolk to my wrist. A ring of welts appeared immediately. When I was a toddler, my sisters had to eat their ice cream bars quickly and furtively, crouched behind the furniture, since I would freak at the sight of the forbidden treat.
Amazingly and to my gastronomical relief, I outgrew all of my food allergies by the time I was three. Hallelujah! Now, I am Iron Stomach Girl! I eat almost everything, have an aversion to wasting food and am a platinum emeritus cum laude member of the Clean Plate Club. Although I am more Raccoon than Foodie, I am eternally grateful for the ability to enjoy a diversity of wonderful food and complex flavors from around the world. And I still love potatoes!
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Gourmet Grits and Artisanal Fried Chicken?
Jennifer Aniston isn’t the only one making a splashy comeback. As a food marketing guru who is in the process of getting “re-orientaled” to the plethora of diverse Atlanta eateries, I couldn’t help but notice the rise in popularity (and price) of Southern comfort food.
When I was a kid in Smyrna, eating out meant being treated to the Fat Boy’s fried chicken (and a fried peach pie), Ponderosa Steakhouse (with A-1 Steak sauce) or later, the fancy Piccadilly’s Cafeteria kid’s plate (and to-die-for pecan cream pie). Today, few places seem to be billed as a “restaurant” anymore but rather a pub, gastro-pub, cafe, book cafe, diner, marketplace, eatery or grill that is Tex-Mex, Pan-Asian, Fusion, Vegetarian, Dim Sum, New World or Tapas serving artisan bread, gourmet grits, microbrewed beer, organic chips, hand-cut fries, multi-grain biscuits, imported cheese, heirloom turkey or heritage grains. As a former school lunch kid and fan of airplane food (gone with the good old days), I’m feeling quite unsophisticated!
Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy (and jump at the opportunity) of eating most of these genres and gastro-delicacies and am a card-carrying member of Slow Food and Georgia Organics. Being a Ponderosa girl, I am more often amused by the creative marketing and happily impressed by the complexity or simplicity of flavors of my meal. Admittedly, there have been times when I’ve ordered a dish that had a description as long as this paragraph and as tantalizing as a Daniel Steele love scene but was left disappointed and hungry. Granted, small is beautiful, food is art and overeating is an American tradition, but satiate my appetite and give me leftovers (how hard could it be at five feet 105-pounds)!
Then there is price. When did a side of grits, collards or baked beans cost five dollars and fried chicken, twenty? Is it a golden chicken? Being the good green shepherd, I also looked into reserving a non-traditional “heritage bird” for my mom at Thanksgiving. The smallest size would have cost nearly $100. Yikes. As a home-style cook and CSA shareholder, I know how much time and effort it takes to grow and cook a good meal with quality ingredients, especially local, fresh and organic. I also realize that in a restaurant, we’re often paying for the ambience, service, etc. Twenty bucks? Hmm....
Maybe it’s a cultural Asian thing. When I was in Bangkok, I discovered that our beloved Pad Thai was actually peasant food costing fifty cents from a street cart (and not on the menu at nice restaurants). No wonder the server looked at me like I had just ordered a hot dog! The same was true for many favorite dim sum and authentic Asian treats. In New York City, my friend and I broke the bank in a “Korean vegetarian shrine.” In Atlanta, the gourmet trend is heading East with several upscale Asian restaurants. I’m saving up for them.
Fortunately for the budget-conscious, on Buford Highway, you can still get a table-full of authentic, cooked-to-order dishes for twenty dollars, including tea, appetizer and dessert! Maybe that explains my reverse-snobbery and love-hate relationship with American/Euro-styled gourmet food. Maybe that’s why we need to change our food and agricultural policies so that the price of organic or locally-produced products are more digestible and accessible. Maybe as the distance between the farm, table and family members has grown, we are comforted by (and seeking?) meals and gatherings that remind us and ground us with a connection to family, culture and community.
In light of the upcoming Georgia Organics annual conference (March 20, 21) with keynote speaker, Michael Pollan, author of best-selling Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food, that’s good food for thought…
When I was a kid in Smyrna, eating out meant being treated to the Fat Boy’s fried chicken (and a fried peach pie), Ponderosa Steakhouse (with A-1 Steak sauce) or later, the fancy Piccadilly’s Cafeteria kid’s plate (and to-die-for pecan cream pie). Today, few places seem to be billed as a “restaurant” anymore but rather a pub, gastro-pub, cafe, book cafe, diner, marketplace, eatery or grill that is Tex-Mex, Pan-Asian, Fusion, Vegetarian, Dim Sum, New World or Tapas serving artisan bread, gourmet grits, microbrewed beer, organic chips, hand-cut fries, multi-grain biscuits, imported cheese, heirloom turkey or heritage grains. As a former school lunch kid and fan of airplane food (gone with the good old days), I’m feeling quite unsophisticated!
Don’t get me wrong: I enjoy (and jump at the opportunity) of eating most of these genres and gastro-delicacies and am a card-carrying member of Slow Food and Georgia Organics. Being a Ponderosa girl, I am more often amused by the creative marketing and happily impressed by the complexity or simplicity of flavors of my meal. Admittedly, there have been times when I’ve ordered a dish that had a description as long as this paragraph and as tantalizing as a Daniel Steele love scene but was left disappointed and hungry. Granted, small is beautiful, food is art and overeating is an American tradition, but satiate my appetite and give me leftovers (how hard could it be at five feet 105-pounds)!
Then there is price. When did a side of grits, collards or baked beans cost five dollars and fried chicken, twenty? Is it a golden chicken? Being the good green shepherd, I also looked into reserving a non-traditional “heritage bird” for my mom at Thanksgiving. The smallest size would have cost nearly $100. Yikes. As a home-style cook and CSA shareholder, I know how much time and effort it takes to grow and cook a good meal with quality ingredients, especially local, fresh and organic. I also realize that in a restaurant, we’re often paying for the ambience, service, etc. Twenty bucks? Hmm....
Maybe it’s a cultural Asian thing. When I was in Bangkok, I discovered that our beloved Pad Thai was actually peasant food costing fifty cents from a street cart (and not on the menu at nice restaurants). No wonder the server looked at me like I had just ordered a hot dog! The same was true for many favorite dim sum and authentic Asian treats. In New York City, my friend and I broke the bank in a “Korean vegetarian shrine.” In Atlanta, the gourmet trend is heading East with several upscale Asian restaurants. I’m saving up for them.
Fortunately for the budget-conscious, on Buford Highway, you can still get a table-full of authentic, cooked-to-order dishes for twenty dollars, including tea, appetizer and dessert! Maybe that explains my reverse-snobbery and love-hate relationship with American/Euro-styled gourmet food. Maybe that’s why we need to change our food and agricultural policies so that the price of organic or locally-produced products are more digestible and accessible. Maybe as the distance between the farm, table and family members has grown, we are comforted by (and seeking?) meals and gatherings that remind us and ground us with a connection to family, culture and community.
In light of the upcoming Georgia Organics annual conference (March 20, 21) with keynote speaker, Michael Pollan, author of best-selling Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food, that’s good food for thought…
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)