Last blog post I started it off by basically saying “this isn’t my thing”. This blog post I’m starting off by saying this is 10000% my thing, in fact this is probably more my thing currently than anything else. My good friends will tell you I never shut up about how important shared food, as a nutrient and as an experience, is for relationship building. Every major (and minor) occasion should be marked and celebrated with a meal. This isn’t an original thought, but I think it gets lost in our modern culture of go go go and eat in front of the TV.
“Nonetheless, what I most remember about that night is not a sense of danger but the perfume of the marinade hitting the grill”
I pulled this quote from “How Food Became Religion in Peru’s Capital City” by Marco Avilés in the Lima Reader. This article stood out to me as it connected the personal experience of the author with a larger commentary on how Peru and Lima have changed in the modern age of the culinary boom.
Aviles recounts a story of the “old Lima” where it wasn’t safe to go out, but food was something that held Lima together in the midst of violence. For aviles, food is memory, of his family, of his town and the changes it was undergoing, of the contrast of the daily violence with the daily pleasures still hidden within the spirit of people. Food is an extension of the emotions felt by himself and the community and food is a semi truck transport into a shared consciousness. The types of foods available are representative of not only the current community but of the origins and shared histories brought by immigration to the city. The community is characterized and self identified by how and what they eat, either out of necessity and happily out of pride.
While our other texts haven’t focused so solely on the role of food in community, it is an ever present theme. The Incas cajoled their subjects with gifts of banquets and traditional foods of the Andeans are maintained to this day as an important part of Peruvian daily life and, as we saw in Amaru, Andean ceremony. Meals are communal. Community is built around partaking in ingestion and imbibing as a way to create a sense of sameness. We all eat the same, therefore we are all in some ways the same. Therefore, we are a community.
Jon, please don’t cancel the final dinner.
A few interesting notes on “pan” in wheat-heavy culture
- pan means bread. Pan also is the Latin prefix for all.
- In the Middle Ages, not only was bread a religious food (body of Christ etc), it was given out to the poor as charity. So you’re not just giving nourishment, you’re giving a sameness.
- Compañero/companion literally means “who I eat bread with
4 replies on “to my beloved compañeros (gluten-free inclusive)”
Morgan, you shine so bright sometimes I must advert my eyes while reading. I’m currently sitting on the couch giggling across from Jon while saying how much I enjoy your blogs. I plea to not cancel the last dinner especially hits hard when our perspective is refocused on the community aspect of food. Food is a universal uniting aspect of humanity that is oftentimes underestimated in its importance. Thank you for this reminder <3
Don’t worry, you can get some sunglasses when were back in Cusco (special price of course)
Hi Morgan,
I love that you mentioned the importance of shared meals and how this is often forgotten in our culture. So many see eating as a chore to be done instead of something to be enjoyed with others. But there is nothing like having a big meal with others. It is fantastic. We should definitely be doing more shared meals as a culture.
In the most recent update (June 28), Jon will not cancel the final dinner. I will do everything possible to make him keep his word. The curious thing is that with the gourmetization of local cuisine, it is no longer true that all Peruvians eat the same thing. Is this new trend another form of culinary extractivism? “Quality” is marked by a class difference, but takes advantage of indigenous or traditional “authenticity,” “improving it,” making it “decent.” Or at least that’s their marketing.