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Food for thought
The truth of the saying, "One man's meat is another man's poison," came to me forcefully the other day. A colleague was offered a snack, which had everyone who belonged to the country from where the snack came smacking their lips.
- By Vanaja Rao, Stone Editor
- Published: 23:27 November 27, 2008
The truth of the saying, "One man's meat is another man's poison," came to me forcefully the other day. A colleague was offered a snack, which had everyone who belonged to the country from where the snack came smacking their lips.
One bite and her nose wrinkled in distaste while her tongue quickly spat out the tidbit. Her strong reaction elicited laughter, with no hurt feelings. There was amusement created by her strong reaction to a food which the others had eaten with great pleasure.
The incident set me thinking. So many tastes are acquired and some kept from what we have grown up with and are therefore used to. So familiar are these distinctive smells and flavours that their nostalgic evocation precipitates the onrush of happy childhood memories.
Mothers have the difficult task of packing lunch boxes for fastidious children who are particular about what goes into their snack boxes. Sometimes the packer has to contend with objections to certain foods. When asked for an explanation, she is told that a friend doesn't like that item. That's when it dawns on her that the contents are not just sampled by her offspring.
In the convent schools where I studied there was always a tuck shop (read school canteen) but one rarely had the money to indulge in the treats sold there. I remember an especially delicious chewy toffee which we called stickjaw as it literally stuck to the palate. I have never tasted anything like it ever again. But I can still recall the free flow of gastric juices as one sucked on this sweet, taking care not to bite into it to ensure it lasted as long as possible.
Then there are vivid memories of a knot of schoolgirls sitting in a circle on a grassy patch during the lunch break, each one carefully dividing the contents of their lunch box into six or eight exact portions, depending on the number of friends present. Food was always meant to be shared and we went about the division of our spoils with the greatest meticulousness, taking care that there were equal portions. None of us wanted to be accused of appropriating the lion's share. Sometimes the food brought by one of us might not be the tastiest in the world. Even mothers have bad cooking days, similar to bad hair days. But we stoically swallowed what was meted out to us for fear of offending a friend.
Needless to say, the boys never seemed to bring these tuck boxes. All they wanted to do was play their games, not even remotely interested in victuals of any kind when there were more important matters to attend to such as kicking a ball around and shouting themselves hoarse.
I also remember a parent's embarrassment on meeting another who told her about her son returning home every day with an empty tiffin box and complaining about a boy who polished off his food without fail. This, she was told, was an everyday occurrence. Realising that her twins attended the same school as the boy whose food was being stolen, she was foolish enough to inquire if the food thief was known to the narrator of this tale.
You can imagine her consternation when she was told that it was one of a pair of twins. Being a generally truthful person, she let slip that she had twin sons in the same school. However, once the cat was out of the bag, the mother of the deprived child found the coincidence hilarious and burst into laughter, much to the relief of the other parent, who made a quick recovery by telling the amused woman that the food she packed for her son must indeed be delicious if her twin was prepared to go to any lengths to have a go at it.
Every family has a special 'food story' such as an eating competition resulting in an aversion to a particular food after ingesting an amount that no mathematician could quantify. Whatever the tale, it's sure to evoke laughter at any get-together.
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