Monumens

No, I'm not sure what it is. Makes me think of people walking in the city on a soggy day. It came out of a free drawing exercise.

What is it about Food?

Pork it seems, is as Danish as apple-pie. A couple of months ago I read an article on NPR.org about how some public institutions in Denmark, like schools, had voluntarily stopped serving pork altogether in order to more easily accommodate individuals who did not indulge in porcine delicacies (usually on religious grounds). When news of this came out, some Danes were outraged at the ommission.

Denmark, as it turns out is not only a major consumer of pork, but also a major producer and exporter of hammy treats. NPR even claimed that pigs outnumber people in Denmark something like 3 to 1! But pork is not only economically significant to Denmark, it is also culturally and traditionally significant as well--so much so in fact, that it was reported that some conservative elements in the Danish government even proposed legislation making it illegal for public institutions to remove pork dishes from their menus. They argued that this was not intended as an attack on a religious minorities (menus would continue to provide alternatives), but out of sacred obligation to preserve Denmark's culinary culture and tradition.

Okay, so it might have been a slow summer news-wise in Denmark, but the fact that some Danes saw the curtailing of chops, roasts, hams, bacon, sausages--I digress--as as threatening their cultural heritage got me thinking about food and food traditions. They really can and do play a significant role in our personal identities.

Whatever the source of our food traditions be they historical, regional, cultural, or religious, they can play a significant role in who we are. Even though I like to think of myself as an adventurous, curious, and open-minded feeder, I cannot deny identifying in a more personal and intimate way with certain foods. For me, this is the Brazilian, German, and Portuguese food traditions of my mother's family, and to a lesser extent the Swiss of my father's. 

I absolutely love curries--all variations, and preferably spicy, but when I crave "comfort" food, I find I usually want nothing as much as Brazilian black beans and rice served with, cove (collard greens), farinha de mandioca and banana, the way mamae would give it too us. Why else would I feel hurt when my kids turn up their noses at this and other favorite dishes of my childhood? I don't feel sad when they don't want my curry.

If our food heritage isn't so integral to our identity, why did impossible-to-get root-beer taste so delicious to me when I was living in Chile when I rarely ever drink it at home? Why else does it not feel like Thanksgiving unless I have a plate of turkey and dressing? I don't even particularly like turkey, but I have to have some--it is the holy sacrament I take to welcome the holiday season. And why then, do I feel hurt, really hurt, when one or more of my children wrinkle their noses at the special treat of speatzle, rotkohl, and weisswurst at my favorite German delicatessen?

Yes, I can sympathize with those crazy Danes, be they pro or anti-pork. Food traditions are extremely important to us. They make us who we are.

We truly are what we eat.  

 

Lilly & Pig: The Laboratory

I suppose this is how it starts sometimes. Just gotta spend enough time in the lab mixing potions.

Some More Lilly and Pig

(Yes, I actually wrote a little! I quote here directly from my hand-written scribbles. I'll quote more as I draw accompanying pictures)

 "Pig is a World Traveler. Before he got Lilly he'd been to London, where he lived for a time, and Norway, where some of his cousins live.
  "He prefers visiting Norway in the summertime, however. It's too cold in the winter."