In Praise of Bland Food
7am. Facebook. A post pops up on how to make a chocolate-covered bacon shot glass for your whiskey.
I must have missed this phenomenon because when I googled “chocolate-covered bacon shot glass” a whole page full of images came up (just not one unprotected by copyright that I could post here). But try googling if you want to see the inventive effort poured into the chocolate-covered bacon shot glasses.
Wow. Full of flavor, no doubt, even if not the flavor I want with breakfast. The example is an extreme one of course, but it inspired me to jot down a couple of points I’ve been thinking about for some time.
First. Whiskey in a chocolate-covered bacon shot glass.
Crushed, perhaps cooked, fermented, distilled carbohydrate aged in barrels for extra flavor served in pork that has been cured, smoked, fried, and then coated with a paste made of seeds that have been fermented, heated, ground for hours mixed with sugar made of heated, clarified, centrifuged juice pressed from cane.
By any definition of highly processed (two processed foods combined, foods that don’t resemble the source material, foods that have been worked over and over), that is highly processed.
So let’s not simply equate highly processed foods with foods made in factories or by corporations.
Second. Ramping up the taste of foods is the wave of the moment.
Chefs work to make their dishes tastier. Books for home cooks suggest new methods of spicing or the use of science to put flavor in every bite. Menus, recipes, and reviews talk about bursts, and jolts, and explosions of flavor.
Sigh. I remember the hostess of a dinner party I went to last year who afterwards said wistfully that perhaps the meal had been too flavorful, perhaps palates needed a break from time to time.
I remember Japanese friends talking about the quiet subtleties of flavor and texture of different kinds and ages of rice. Or Mexicans of a corn tortilla fresh from the griddle with just a sprinkle of salt. Or how good it can be to savor plain oatmeal or white corn grits. Or bread, no butter, no jam, no cheese.
Or water, really good water. Austin, where I live, luckily has pretty good water. But for urban supplies, try Honolulu, rainwater filtered through lava, no chlorine added, on a hot day, the sensation in the mouth.
So enough of a cacophony of taste. Enough of bold. Enough of jolts and explosions and bursts. They have their place. But not in every bite. Let’s hear it for delicate, subtle, quiet, and mild, even bland.
_________________
There are historical, political, and health aspects of the insistence on flavor and more flavor, something for another day.
And that I write this now is thanks, in part, to discussions stimulated by an brief editorial I have on Aeon today, “In Praise of Artificial Food.” I love the site and the editorial support they give authors.
- Was the Agricultural Revolution a Terrible Mistake? Not If You Take Food Processing Into Account
- Tamales: From The Cause of Crime to the Cause of Celebration at Candelaria
So much of the ritual of eating is about comfort. And so much about comfort in food is the deliberate cutting out of surprises, so you can instead be stimulated by whatever you are doing alongside, whether it is the conversations, the book you are reading, or simple contemplation. So yes, as usual, I agree.
Thanks for the comment. I agree about comfort and specially like the idea of being stimulated by what you are doing alongside eating. Some people seem to be able to converse and really appreciate the food at the same time. I find that hard.
I do think there’s another aspect. And that is that we need variety in levels of flavorfulness. Spicy sauce against mild rice, strong cheese against plain bread, or if in courses, some more flavorful than other.
The whole idea of whiskey plus bacon plus chocolate seems rather gross to me (as if bacon with chocolate wasn’t already bad enough). The creators of this only forgot to up it another notch by coating it with dough and deep frying it!
No quarrel from me Karin.
Rachel,
I particularly agree and relate to your second point, “Let’s hear it for delicate, subtle, quiet, and mild, even bland”. But, I also think this is not just a matter of flavor.
Bala
I agree it’s not just a matter of flavor, Bala. But I’d be interested to hear your understanding of what it’s about because it may well be different from mine. And by the way, I do know I owe you a letter!
Serendipitously, I had a lovely spicy Indian/Nepalese meal tonight–enhanced and improved by the inclusion of cool, creamy, not-spicy raita, plain rice, and naan. As in so many things in life, the best meals are all about contrast.
Yes and lucky you. And I’m no expert of flavor but I suspect learning to discriminate subtle flavors enhances enjoyment.
While I love bold flavours — lay on the parmesan, mushrooms, fresh coriander, etc. — I also don’t like to be overwhelmed. And overchallenged….I’ve never been one to disect a dish while I’m eating, which I find spoils the experience for me. I kind of feel that it’s a lot like taking photos or videos when you really should be enjoying the moment (and here I’m not just talking about food photos). And I guess I believe that food, no matter how sophisticated it is, should always be the #2 in the room – #1 being the people you are with. So, yes, I agree that subtle can definitely be better. Give me popcorn with salt and butter only (no bacon or truffles, please)! Thanks for your thought provoking posts!
Love your comparison between dissecting a dish when you are eating it and taking photos when you should be enjoying the moment. I feel much the same but had never put it that way to myself. And like you, I am not against bold flavors, anything but, but I want some balance.
Oh, and your blog looks so interesting. I look forward to reading more.
Thanks Rachel!
This is a comment in general about cookery and what the ancient Greeks had to say about it as quoted by the 3rd C. AD “food writer” Athenaeus: ” The art of cookery drew us forth from that ferocious life when void of faith the cannibal ate his brother! To cookery we owe well ordered states, assembling men in society…[it is a long passage about how mankind learned to cook] To enjoy the meal men congregated in towns, cities flourished which we cooks adorned with all the pleasures of domestic life… And for our special merits [the gods] scatter blessings on the human race because from us [the cooks] and from our art mankind was first induced to live a life of reason…” I definitely agree with you that we cannot do with processing food in some way.
And let’s not forget that salt, herbs and spices were first used to preserve food, not just to add special flavors to our food. They also contain vitamins and trace elements necessary for health. We just acquired certain preferences along the way. It is worth noting that traditional Greek cookery is noted for its lack of use of spice, emphasis on just a few herbs and the “natural” good quality and freshness of the ingredients. We rarely eat fish here with sauces, only lemon and olive oil sprinkled on at the end and maybe oregano! Anything else is thought to spoil the fresh taste of the fish. I once made this comment while eating fish with some sort of special sauce in the USA and my hosts were insulted! Love your thoughts on food and also the Aeon site. Thank you Rachel. Linda Makris, Athens, Greece
Any comment that starts with Athenaeus has to be a good one! And thanks for raising the classical analogy because I want to return to the deep historical and political roots of this debate about tastiness. Meantime, I’d love to have some fish fresh from Greek waters.
Another thing to consider is that sometimes the simplest of flavors derive from extremely complicated processes. Great bread, or a simple piece of cheese, or a great tomato on its own. We think of these as simple or bland, but they’re very complex in the flavors they offer, not always in your face, but very multifaceted. The comparison to music is a good one too, sometimes you need the absence of sound to appreciate the thunderbolts.
Hi Ken, great to hear from you. And yes, absolutely. You’re quite right to point out that I glossed over the point that bread or cheese are not simple tastes. In fact probably few things we eat are, right?
Ha! I stumbled on the same chocolate bacon shot tumblers and they started me thinking.
Now, I love bacon. The smoke cured uncooked one, best, but any other kind is fine, too. And I do have a Russian palate for vodka vodichka (water of life, just like whiskey in Gaelic). But chocolate? It wouldn’t go too well with bacon, and it would outright spoil the kick of the spirits.
So I’m still thinking of some savory stuff to hold together those bacon tumblers. Gelatine, maybe?
(Btw I love the way you write, the things you notice. Thank you so very much just for being somewhere out there.)
Ganna, Thanks for writing. Gelatine sounds good. But I’m happy to take the water of life by itself!