On Food Writing
When I sit and think about it, so many of my memories are held together by the taste of those moments. Childhood holidays are a sticky blur of ice cream and cherry juice, whilst a past relationship carries with it the smell of a Chinese restaurant, the grease speckled bread of an unexpected bacon sandwich he once woke me up with. I remember a particular weekend with my friend by the fondant fancies we ate together in bed, the paper wrappers crumpled behind the headboard. Food is, and always has been, a shared experience with those I love. Yet despite this, I’m a fussy eater, and there’s a long list of strangely particular ingredients I won’t eat, something that undeniably gets in the way of me fully appreciating a lot of food. I’ve always been a reader, but it never occurred to me until recently that food writing might be an alternative way to consume, a way to extend the enjoyment of food past the physical, and to side step my fussy habits.
‘Food films’ as a genre was introduced to me in a world cinema module I took in my first year at university. In these films, food is a character in its own right. It propels the narrative and connects the characters, focusing on the two senses usually disregarded by cinema; taste and smell. For the viewer it is as if the food is being prepared in front of you- for screenings we were told to eat beforehand, and there’s a reason for this. Meals and food act as a symbol of community, a tool to bring people together and to represent belonging. I was reminded of these films when I read Nina Mingya Powles Tiny Moons (available from the Emma Press- not only is it great, but buying it will support independent publishers). A slither of a book that can suitably be devoured in one sitting, it is divided into seasons and structured around the food Nina ate in a year spent studying in Shanghai. Nina traces her heritage through the bowls and bites she consumed and this culinary journey takes her through China, Malaysia and New Zealand. She writes about the dishes that have not only brought her closer to others, but also helped her to understand herself. Tiny Moons is a feast; plump globes of soup dumplings, friendships formed over the bright plastic packaging of shared mooncakes, noodles that splash soy sauce and dark, fragrant aubergine. Her memoir is a collection of memories and flavours, of family recipes and late night snacks enjoyed riding home on her bike. The book is heady with chilli oil and the steamy scent of ginger. Just like in the films I watched at uni, Nina brings food out of the abstract; here are the sounds of a restaurant, the scents and flavours of a meal. Rather than an experience that seems locked into the page, the food Nina describes is shimmeringly real, and we as readers join her in this act of consumption and self-realisation.
The more I read about food writing, the more invested I become. It has become a way to enjoy food without limitations, to experience flavours, cultures and restaurants, something that has obviously become more difficult in lockdown. I read somewhere that ‘food is first devoured as words’ and from menus to memoirs, reviews to recipe books, I have become fascinated with the relationship between language and food- how really skilled writers can translate and conjure up such a sensory experience through only words. In terms of reading about food, I’m currently working my way through a couple other food memoirs but one of the best resources I have found is the newsletter Vittles. It focuses on wide reaching and varied topics within the discourse of food and there is always a unique and interesting piece to be found on here. Vittles offers intelligent and creative writing that considers the food industry as a whole- all the people, institutions and places that make up food, yet are often forgotten about. Currently there is a real problem with diversity in restaurant and food writing, and in particular, a lack of focus on black owned restaurants and opportunities for black writers. Vittles provides a platform for more diverse food writing, which honestly leads to more interesting articles. I really enjoyed this piece on black erasure in the food industry, and will link some other articles I loved from there. Vittles is free to subscribe to, and will arrive directly into your inbox.
https://vittles.substack.com/p/vittles-612-black-erasure-in-the.
https://vittles.substack.com/p/vittles-39-londons-nigerian-food
https://vittles.substack.com/p/vittles-613-nationalised-food
Ruby Tandoh also writes some really great articles on food- of course I loved this one on food and film, and I’ve just ordered her book Eat Up to read next.
I don’t know if there necessarily needs to be some concluding point to this, or if I even have one- fussy habits don’t need to restrict me from enjoying food in all its forms, food is everywhere- on the screen, on the page, and I’m not full yet.