In Memoriam, Luciano Pavarotti and his love of food!
Famed Italian Tenor Luciano Pavarotti passed away this last September 6 at the age of 71. He has been recognized as arguably the greatest opera tenor of the second half of the twentieth century. He grew up in Modena, a city and region famous for its wonderfully delicious food, the son of a baker.
“One of the very nicest things about life,” as Luciano Pavarotti once said, “is the way we must regularly stop whatever it is we are doing and devote our attention to eating.” Pavarotti, in all of his well-fed wisdom, suggests that eating and meals are a separate kind of activity—often a break from the work and play of life. Yet food and meals sustain our lives in many ways every day. Tell us about an ordinary food or meal that may seem mundane to the rest of the world but holds special meaning for you. Think about how the food is prepared, packaged, or served and by whom. Do you eat it in a distinctive manner? At a special time? In a certain place or with select company? Most importantly, explain how this everyday food sustains or satisfies you in a way that another food or meal could not.
Filed under: Food for Thought and
The meal that is most special to me is not an ordinary meal, but it carries special meaning nontheless. It is called Chile Rejenos (I am pretty sure that I spelled that wrong, but I know that is how it is pronounced), also known as stuffed peppers. This meal is important to me because it is one of the few reminders of my Salvadoran heritage in my suburban existence in the middle of Orange County. My older sister lends me her driving skills, and we go to the market to search out only the finest bell peppers, we are extreamely particular about the size, shape, and color of the peppers. The peppers are washed, sliced, suffed with chesse, dipped in egg whites, and fried. My family enjoys to sit down and eat this meal not only because it is very tasty, but because the chile rejono’s transform our kitchen in orange county into a tiny corner of El Salvador. The smells and the tastes broaden my perspective, and awake my forgoten heritage. The meal carries additional importance to me, because I get a great amount of satisfaction to know that the meal that I mostly made (with help from my Sister and Mother) was able to move my family into a different place and different time, and give my family the opportunity to remember.
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Chile relleno… and I want left-overs next time!
Great post.
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I live to eat, I do not eat to live
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Every single (Vietnamese) meal that my mom makes has some special significance to me. Not only the meal itself but also the preparation. I find myself learning tidbits about the history behind the meal as well as about my own culture every time my mom graces me with her presence in the kitchen. Watching her mastery in creating common and uncommon cultural dishes is somewhat of a privilege because she is the keeper of the secret art of Vietnamese cooking within our family. She is even pretty well known among her friends as an excellent cook and I feel that I’m gaining a bit of culture with every delicious bite.
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Ironically, though I am a fan of the culturally-important dutch foods I eat, my favorite experience is the traditional American picnic, with lemonade, hamburgers, and the variety of salads, potatoes, and side dishes.
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Yes, Ryan, but you’re missing the most important part of the post: “Most importantly, explain how this everyday food sustains or satisfies you in a way that another food or meal could not.” Why don’t you add that…?
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To me food has never seemed important other than the obvious “eat or die” part. We tend to eat a lot of Mexican food (it’s in my blood surprise surprise) but it’s significantly despiced due to the prominant GERD that runs in our family (all of us have it). However, we don’t limit ourselves to any particular style, ethnicity, or anything like that. So I’ve never developed the love of food that so many others have.
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For my family, it’s not the food we eat but that fact that we eat it together. Whether it is my dad preparing the meal for us or if we eat out, we almost always make time to spend those 30 minutes as a family. It’s a good time to not only tell each other how our lives are going, but to also solve and arguments that we might have with each other. It is slightly saddening to me that with our fast paced “American” culture, that many people don’t spend much time with their families, especially compared to the Hispanic culture, who, according to my Spanish teacher, even have a name for eating and talking together over dinner called la sobremesa. My family and I definitely don’t get along but I think that it is very important that we eat together, and I really appreciate that. Not only does this meal sustain my hunger but it satisfies me in knowing that my family always makes time for each other.
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My dad grew up in (what he hates to admit as being) a slum immigrant neighborhood of Detroit, Michigan. He grew up around first-generation and second-generation Hungarian immigrants; and if there’s one thing that he brought with him to California worth mentioning, it’s his Chicken Soup recipe.
I associate the meal with cold, rainy days because that’s when my dad makes it most. The process starts in the early afternoon, when potatoes, celery, carrots, chicken broth, salt, pepper, a few spices, and a whole chicken are boiled lightly in the biggest pot we have. After only a little while, the smell of the soup radiates throughout the house and seems to do so better on rainy days for no particular reason.
After, say, three hours, the chicken is pulled out of the pot and is put straight into the oven, where it cooks for another hour or so. Generic soup noodles are then prepared.
We start with the soup, which comes out perfect most of the time. Then we pull the chicken out of the oven and cut ourselves parts of it and serve ourselves potatoes and carrots from the bottom of the soup pot. The chicken is golden brown when it comes out and is never dried out.
What’s so Hungarian about the recipe? I’m told it’s the touch. The only verification of this is when my Grandma visits from Michigan and makes the soup herself. Somehow, it always turns out better.
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Forgot to add this. The meal is significant to my family because we tend to get sick when it rains a lot (like in 2005). This soup helps us get better most of the time, or at least makes us feel better. I don’t think it really helps us get in touch with our heritage much, which is pretty lacking in my family.
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Oh, all the things I’d say about food.
To begin with, “I don’t eat to live… I live to eat!!” Brandon stole my quote.
There this one dish (or cup) that my dad occasionally brings home. o haven’t the slightest idea what its called in English, but I think its broiled duck eggs ,or a bird of some sort. He buys it from a Vietnamese market down in Bolsa and we broil it at home. Inside is the egg yolk which is like normal broiled egg yolk but more thick and takes up about half the egg; its delicious! Other than the yolk, theres the duck (or that bird of some sort). Its a dull grey color, almost ready to be born with less than few immature feather-like things.
We eat it with salt and pepper mixed with lemons, and some kind of leaves. To eat it, we put it in a cup and lightly, with a spoon, we tap the hollow end of it (the bigger end). And then just peal and enjoy!
I know this may be disgusting to many people, but I love it and what it does for my family. I once saw this on fear factor, where it most definitely does not belong. I was disgusted by the white man’s disgust.
We would always eat this around midnight, but there was no particular reason (that i know) for that. It wouldn’t be the same eating this when I could see even the slightest glimpse of sunlight. This snack brings my entire family together. We usually never talk at dinner, but we ALWAYS talk while eating these; everyone is always happy. We’ve done this for as long as i could remember.
Every time I crack open an egg, i always think of my little sister, because she always wants the juice at the top of the egg. The yolk brings to mind my older sister and my mom because thats their favorite part. And the bird (what little bird it may be) brings to mind my dad because he and I are the only ones who eat it. Its my entire happy childhood family all in an egg.
What this snack does for me that no other does is that it leaves a good feeling. I hate thinking about the future and what i have to do, but these eggs remind me of how easy childhood has/will be.
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One word: Rice.
I’m asian, so rice holds a special part in my heart. There’s nothing that satisfies me better than to come to a dinner table and see a bowl of rice just sitting there waiting for me to eat it with the accompanying side dishes. It’s something that I could never be tired of. Moreover, it has to be the homecooked rice. Not the rice you get at the chinese restaurants. Those rice just aren’t the same. The temperature and the texture and the grain is just all wrong. The ones at home are nice and hot, and each spoonful of rice sticks together perfectly. It’s not too hard or too mushy, too dry or too wet, too hot or too cold. Also, the ones at home are more white compared to the strange yellow-ish rice you see sitting in the pots at a given asian restaurant. And by home-cooked, I’m not talking about those instant rice boxes where you just add water or whatever. No, you have to scoop your rice out of the giant rice bag and wash it, rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat to get out all the impurities. And then you can cook it on the stove if you’re in a rush, or in a rice cooker if you’re not. Then you can sit by yourself or with your family and enjoy the goodness. No hamburger can ever compare.
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I agree whole-heartedly with Elisa. Rice is special to my culture because of its abundance and easiness to grow and crop. No matter what I eat during the day I can almost always count on a white hot steaming bowl of rice when I get home. It is one of the few constant things in my life and since my family sits down to enjoy it together it has become a big part of my daily routine.
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Sorry, Mr. Eldridge, I missed the most important part. So, instead of describing my favorite food, I will describe a tradition that my immediate family holds. We eat pizza on every Friday for the indistinct reason of relaxing from the standard dinner atmoshere: on any other day, we usually imhale in ten to twenty minutes as a family before rushing to practices, golf games, parties, or some late night studying; or, we have a formal home-cooked meal with so many ‘proper ettiquete’ lessons, the meal loses its taste. Don’t get me wrong, I am immensly proud of how often my mother (and sometimes my father) can get the family to eat a decent, home cooked meal, yet, the consistensy of a pizza a week helps relax tensions and helps keep the family satisfied.
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My favorite memory of food was when we were in Mexico for Christmas around three or four years ago. I was sick and annoyed at my parents for refusing to speak English when I didn’t understand what they were saying in Spanish. My grandmother made me meatball soup to make me feel better. It was the only time I actually enjoyed eating meat and I felt closer to my grandmother since she taught me how to make them.
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My favorite dish is enchiladas! I love them because of the chili sauce and the extra cheese that I put on them. I still can’t make them very well, so I always have to beg my mom to make them because unfortunately not everyone in my family likes them. Its always fun, because I usually get to help my mom make them, and I get to spend a lot of time with her. Its a typical mexican dish, and there are various ways to make them. You can make them with green chili sauce or red chili sauce, and some people put chicken in them. I perefer cheese enchiladas because the melted cheese makes them taste so good!
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Wow! Food is just simply amazing! I cannot imagine life without it!!! =] I can eat almost anything! But ever since I was little, I have loved a Mexican dish called Mole [moh-ley]. It is made with a spicy sauce, flavored with chocolate. It is usually served with either turkey or chicken, but I prefer chicken!! That’s not it though, my mommy always, always makes her yummy rice to go with it. I enjoy the times we have it for dinner! =] ((Plus, this post reminded me of the movie Ratatouille*))
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I am entirely with you Naomi! Enchiladas happen to be the only thing I can cook with any success! Mmmmmmm yummy!
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My favorite dish would have to be tamales. I love all kinds of tamales from both my Mexican side of the family as well as from my Guatamalen side of my family. I love the slightly sweet tamales of my Guatamalen side but cannot resist the spicy tamales of my Mexican heritage brought upon by the chili peppers that are used within the tamales. To me no other food could fill the mighty shoes that are the tamales’;I love how one thing could hold so many surprising flavors and how you can never really tell what kind of tamale it is without actually trying it.
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Every meal, especially mexican food, that my mom makes has a different and in its own way a delicious flavor, therefore it is hard to choose a favorite meal. One of my special meals,as I have several others, would have to be Mole, my grandma is the one who cooks it usually during a party, and I know that the next day I will have Enchiladas for dinner because my family prepares Enchiladas with Mole along with cheese and cream. Delicious! Another meal that I enjoy is Chile Rellenos. I only eat this once or twice a year because it takes a long time to make but I enjoy this meal because I get to help my mom make it although it is a hard job and it takes a long time to make but it is worth it because at the end it all pays up with a delicious plate. This meals are important to me and my family because even though we live in Orange County, my family’s culture still remains no matter what location in the world we are.
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I realize that we would not be able to live without food, but I have also come to realize that food always seems to be able to lift my spirits up when I’m feeling down. Food just has an amazing effect on me- when I’m sad or mad, it always seems to be able to make me feel better and make me happy again. For example, if I know that I’m going to have a good meal for dinner, I am happy the whole day, just thinking about the great meal I will be having in a few short hours. Food never seems to fail; it always manages to get me out of my melancholic mood. Food has a profound impact on my emotions that I can’t seem to describe. It is amazing how something so routine, like eating, can make our days that much better.
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Gallo Pinto….the most common/known dish in Costa Rica. Even though my boyfriend’s dad makes fun of me for it, since it is only rice and beans mixed together with different veggies and spices, I couldn’t live w/o it. In Costa Rica, from the poorest to the richest family eats this dish. I feel like it unifies the country, along my family. Every Saturday morning, instead of going to Denny’s, (haha), my mom prepares Gallo Pinto, accomplanied with scrambled eggs, platanos maduros, slices of cheese, sour cream, coffee, and bread. Not only is it a delicious breakfast, but it can be lunch and dinner as well. When I eat gallo pinto I feel like I am back in Costa Rica at my grandma’s house. It’s amazing what food can do…besides making you GINORMOUS!!!! HaHa!
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I love food!! It’s delicious. I always try eating different types of foods from different cultures because I like that experience that I at least tried it. There is one type of food which really isn’t much of a food, but I love it so much that I consider it food and that is different types of hot sauces and hot peppers. Every time I see a hot sauce or peppers my mouth just begins to water because I like that feeling of hot spice in my mouth, but now it’s seems as if I have gain a high tolerance for spicyness that some hot sauces or peppers aren’t spicy enough for me. Whenever I am home I try to put some hot spice in everything I eat. Whenever I eat some kind of pepper or hot spicy hot sauce it reminds me of the family I have back in Mexico, especially my moms side of the family because they are the ones who introduced it to me as a child. And I feel proud knowing I can carry that high tolerance for spicy sauces and hot peppers because whenever I go visit my dad’s family they all can’t seem to handle the heat of any hot sauce or hot peppers. So to me eating spicy peppers or hot sauces brings lot’s of memories of family and a stronger connection with food. Whenever I eat spicy foods, sauces or peppers they all get me going in a way that satisfies my hunger.
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