Eating

            As I prepared my evening meal one-day last week, it occurred to me how we connect a meal with other events in our lives.  Many times, we humans like a particular food because of a pleasant experience we enjoyed while we were eating that food.  Conversely, we dislike a certain food because of something unpleasant that has happened to us.  For example, most of us like the taste of a piece of cake at a wedding because the food celebrates a happy time for the newlyweds.  On the other hand, I know a man who will not eat chicken no matter how it is prepared because he had to kill and dress chickens when he was young.  He just cannot bring himself to eat any chicken as a result.

            Or we can be taught to like or dislike food.  For example, I like raw oysters with a touch of chili sauce because of my parents.  Our country was just coming out of the Great Depression as they raised their young family and did not have a great deal of money.  I remember twice when my dad “splurged” and brought home four raw oysters, a real delicacy for them, and he and my mom ate them in front of me, my sister and brother, but did not share them, “Too expensive,” Dad said.  Their obvious enjoyment convinced me that raw oysters must be absolutely delicious.  So when I finally had an opportunity to eat a raw oyster, my taste buds were already programmed to like them and enjoy them I did.

            I like fried liver and onions and determined that the liver was good for our growing children, but my husband did NOT like liver. Whenever I would prepare it, he would make faces and feed his share to our dog when he thought I (or our children) wasn’t looking (but we all were).  As a result, our four children learned not to like liver and, to this very day, not one of them will eat it. 

            Sometimes a particular dish can remind us of an event that stays in our memory.  For example, my dad worked hard for fifty weeks out of the year so he and his family could primitive camp for two weeks in either Arizona or Utah.  On one trip, we camped fairly close to the Grand Canyon.  So we prepared for an all-day trip to see that amazing place.  Dad made plans to have supper waiting for us when we returned to camp.  He filled a cast-iron Dutch oven with water, bits of ham, and Navy beans.  He dug a hole in the ground, layered the bottom with briquette coals, placed it over the coals, and covered the oven with a special lid, one that he had remodeled by soldering a metal lip around the lid so it could hold hot coals.  He lit the coals, and off we went for our visit.

            When we arrived back to our camp, the oven was still very hot, but the coals were all embers.  We learned soon enough that Dad had not used a sufficient amount of briquettes.  The beans were hot, but not soft.  We ate them because that was all we had besides canned peaches and some bread. Before we crawled into our sleeping bags that night, my brother and I had thrown up our suppers, and the rest of my family had severe stomach aches.  Fortunately, I have never lost the good taste for ham and beans, but I never eat them and do not remember the glorious day our family shared at the Grand Canyon and the supper that never quite got cooked. 

            We eat to live, and as a result, we all have memories of how events have influenced our eating likes and dislikes.