Becoming a Foodie

I used to think that food was a passion for everyone. The moment of clarification came in my final college class. We were discussing “self activities,” those activities that are vitalizing and allow an even greater fullness to life. My professor explained that studying philosophy was one such activity for him… so much so, that if he is out to a fancy meal eating the best food in the world, but also having the most stimulating philosophical conversation, it is the words he will remember, not the flavors. I was stunned to hear this, but figured he was just a quirky philosopher man, and that most people would for sure be more into the flavors tantalizing their palates. He then asked the class to raise our hands if they felt food (cooking, eating, and sharing) was a passion of ours. Mine sprung up, excited to see the reinforcement of my classmates. As it turned out only about a third of us had our hands up. This was the moment that I realized that I could legitimately identify as a foodie.

Now, I can’t claim elite foodie status, and I’m not sure I ever want to. But I am enjoying stumbling along the path of food passion. I grew up in a house that cherished social justice, olive oil, Italian sausage, mashed potatoes, cheese, French toast, aldente pasta, and popcorn. While my dad claims that he now feels his cooking is inferior to the pursuits my brother’s and I take on in the kitchen, his passion for the foods he cooked is what ignited our drive. But it is true; I am exploring things in the kitchen that I never ate in my childhood home.

In the past couple months I have traveled to Greece, Italy, India, France, Thailand, Mexico and beyond just by sitting down at my (or a friend’s) kitchen table. I have two favorite explorations thus far. First would be my trip to the Mediterranean when I made spinach pie and curried couscous.



This meal was based on recipes from the Barefoot Contessa cookbook. Both components were relatively simple, but extremely tasty. I would argue that simple and tasty is the best combination, especially when living the high- paced city life. It is nice to come home from a long day and still achieve fantastic flavor within an hour’s time. But, those times when more than an hour is put into cooking can be even more rewarding, especially when there is a partner in the journey.

This leads me to my second exploration. I have on two occasions attempted Southern Indian cuisine with a friend and neighbor. We have been working on perfecting the creation of sambar. Sambar was the staple of my household and every household in Bangalore. Both times we have undertaken this culinary adventure I have caught myself momentarily drifting back to the neighborhood of Rajajinigar (contact me if you would like to know how to pronounce this). There I am with an Indian family of six, sitting on the floor of our two bedroom house anxiously awaiting the cuisine of my host mom and sister, trying desperately to remember all the proper etiquette, watching some Bollywood music videos on the TV that sat in the corner underneath the Tweety bird stuffed animal hanging from a ceiling hook… Until I awake to remember I am stumbling around a thoroughly American kitchen with a fellow non-Indian most definitely ill equipped for such cooking, but we choose to brave it nonetheless. I think in both attempts we ended up using not exactly the right dhal or at least not the right amount, and most likely one or two of the desired spices were left out or improvised. But, in our second meal we definitely came much closer to that memory of my Indian family’s living room/bedroom/dining room.

Bowls of Sambar
(Photo Chris Brunn)

(Oh and we threw in a little non-indian farmer's market goodness as well. Brussel sprouts are my new favorite green vegetable!)

Brussel Sprouts, Spigariello, and Red Onion
(Photo Chris Brunn)

I think that I love food so much because of this expansive world it taps into. It isn’t just about the flavors hitting my taste buds. It’s about the intellectual, emotional, sensual experience as well. They say that our olfactory senses are the most connected to memory. When I cook, I feel myself transported to kitchens of times past. When I eat something amazing, I get excited about sharing that meal with others in future moments. I truly believe that food is perhaps the most universal element through which we can connect.

So here’s to being a foodie… and all the adventures it brings.