The candor, vulnerability, and passionate reflection with which Rosario Castellanos’ “Cooking Lesson” is told was refreshing to read. The story was a compelling window into the mind and thoughts of a ‘housewife’- a role that has trapped, be it willingly or unwillingly, so many women throughout history, and one that transcends culture and place. What struck me throughout this piece was the way the beef cut its way through the narrator’s thoughts, grounding the story in this woman’s reality and simultaneously telling a story of its own. 

It is quite fascinating the role food has and continues to play in our lives and our identities. It both unites cultures and divides people. It is prepared by some and eaten by all. Food brings with it customs, traditions and deeply rooted histories. Through food, the kitchen became a gendered place- both defining and confining the woman in this story to an existence where knowing how to cook should be something of an intuition, and failing to do so with a smile deems her less worthy in her husband’s eyes. 

The evolution of the beef from raw, to seasoned, to juicy, to burned reflects a slow and gradual- though quicker at times- turn from ‘innocent’ and hopeful, to submissive and quiet, identified by this woman as the inescapable consequence of marriage and patriarchal notions of what it is to be a wife. 

Food is symbolic, it represents something about those who prepare it and those who eat it, and Castellanos’ story does just that. As it changes in shape, size and age, the dish the narrator prepares tells a story of herself, and they way she, like the meat, “hasn’t stopped existing” but has rather “undergone a series of metamorphoses” (352). The image such a metaphor concocts is powerful, as the unfiltered thoughts of her mind are trapped in this isolating role. However, as the ending suggests, this does not mean they disappear- her mind is her own, something, unlike the fate of the beef, that doesn’t burn but rather offers her the small, muted freedom of reflection and power of thought.

Of course, culture isn’t limited to food, but as we learned in this week’s lecture, it was etymologically born from it, and continues to play such a foundational role in shaping cultural identity. So I wonder, is food culture or is culture food? Could culture come from food and the notions, identities and customs that come with it, or is food simply produced/considered an element of culture?