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The Foods That Remind Us Of Home
The entertainment world is awash in nostalgia. Top Gun: Maverick, the sequel to the original Top Gun movie, has earned more than $1.2 billion worldwide ($7 of that was mine). Kate Bush’s 1980s hit, Running Up That Hill, is atop the British charts, thanks to its inclusion in the streaming series Stranger Things.
In the food world, marketers are busy capitalizing on foods that remind us of home. This is not a new trend, of course. Marcel Proust turned his memories of tea and madeleines into literary poetry. “No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me,” he wrote.
The Chicago Reader asked its audience to submit their food memories from past summers, and the recollections flooded in. The responses included coco paletas (frozen coconut popsicles), freshly made gazpacho, discount sashimi, and even pickles.
I recently asked friends on Facebook to tell me what reminded them of their roots, and got a similarly delightful wave of answers.
People who hailed from the Chesapeake Bay named Old Bay seasoning. Detroiters mentioned Vernor’s ginger ale. Philadelphians, no surprise, said cheese steaks. There were nominations for ranch dressing, fennel seed, lobster rolls and from our friend Pete Bigelow, cannoli.
Here in New Orleans, I have begun shopping at the Hong Kong Market, a vast supermarket whose main focus is foods from all across Asian countries, such as Japan, Korea, China and Vietnam. But there are also aisles filled with goods from the Middle East, and a long row of items that are used in different types of Latin American cuisine. I’m touched that the proprietors would make room for people who might be as equally homesick as the market’s primary audience.
Behind our longing
Why is the pull to purchase foods from home so strong, especially in recent times? We’ve all been through an experience that made us look for safety. The uncertainty that roiled the world in the pandemic caused a lot of us to seek out comfort, whether in banana bread and sourdough, or pastries or simple lunches.
During stay at home, Maxine and I ate dozens of Little John sandwiches from Jimmy John’s — she got a BLT, I got turkey. To be honest, it’s going to be a long time before I eat another Jimmy John’s. Their menu will always remind me of the pandemic, when Jimmy John’s left deliveries on the front steps.
But in considering the before times, I have a variety of memories. The first dish my mother taught me to make was apple crisp, with apples that magically arrived on our back porch from our neighbors, whose family owned an orchard. A little later, she tutored me in spaghetti sauce, both marinara and meat based. I never feel settled in a house or apartment until I’ve made my first batch.
Our aunt always brought us boxes of Frango Mints from Marshall Field’s in Chicago. At baseball games, I like to get a miniature plastic batting helmet filled with soft serve (I almost never eat soft serve otherwise, but it says “baseball” to me more than hot dogs). Trips to Canada were never complete without buying a package of maple leaf cookies, and every journey to London meant a stop at Marks & Spencer for wine gums (I just had a box shipped over).
Multiple memories of home
Those of us who have lived in multiple places have a variety of dishes that come to mind when we think of home. Our founding member, Henry Harteveldt, shared a lovely set of food memories.
“What are the foods that remind me of ‘home’? I guess it depends on how you view ‘home.’
I grew up in New York City. So, bagels -- plain, sesame seed, or poppyseed -- with or without lox or smoked salmon, but always with plain cream cheese. The Horn & Hardart Automat, a favorite of our paternal grandfather's. Hot dogs from street vendors or the Papaya King on 86th and Third Avenue (another one of our grandfather's favorite places), with spicy brown mustard and sauerkraut (and, at Papaya King, one of its tropical fruit drinks). Chinese food. Italian food. French food. German food. Diners. Good Jewish deli. Le Sueur brand canned peas. Swanson TV dinners (let's put it this way...my mother was not a cook).
Roast goose at Thanksgiving and Christmas, and oyster dressing for the turkey, two family traditions, which we would have at my paternal grandparents' home. Chocolate chip cookies -- thin, yet also chewy -- also from our grandparents. Cheesecake and lemon coconut cakes from Leonard's, a long-gone bakery. Schnecken from William Greenberg Desserts.
But ‘home’ for me also means Dallas, Texas, where my mother and her family were from, and Louisiana, because I had an aunt, uncle, and cousins who lived in Baton Rouge. That expands the foods that remind me of home to Texas BBQ, steak, good Tex-Mex, and Dr. Pepper.
Oh, and because we had these for the first time as kids when visiting Dallas, double-decker hamburgers (from Kip's Big Boy -- preferably its location near Love Field so I could also watch the planes landing or taking off), IHOP, and salad bar at Steak & Ale (one of its first locations was on Lemmon Avenue, a few blocks from my grandparents' apt. building).
Louisiana's captivating extensive cornucopia of Cajun. Creole, and other foods always made us look forward to our visits -- briny fresh oysters, boiled or BBQ shrimp, fried catfish, oysters and shrimp, po-boy sandwiches, crayfish boils, red beans and rice, gumbo, etouffés, and roasted LA duck (no wonder I ended up at Tulane).”
That is a lot of great eating — and wonderful memories.
When an imitation is acceptable
I’ve always prized eating foods closest to their origin. In my mind, lobsters should come from Maine. Detroit style pizza should be eaten in Detroit, or at least in Southeastern Michigan. Likewise, gumbo and shrimp taste better here than they do miles away, even though a skilled cook can whip up both. I never wanted to eat “southern food” anywhere except a southern state.
But when it comes to food memories, sometimes a facsimile serves the purpose of the authentic dish. We aren’t looking for an authentic experience, simply a reminder of that madeleine that Proust wrote about so eloquently. Interestingly, I’ve found some of the best clam chowder I have ever eaten at The Larder in Metarie, Louisiana. Despite our relentless heat and humidity, I’ve enjoyed that chowder almost every time I’ve eaten there.
I’m not looking to replicate the chowder I’ve eaten on the Cape and in Boston. Instead, I’m looking to transport myself to days of brisk sea breezes, brilliant blue skies and sandy hills. And, that’s what food nostalgia is really about — taking you to a time and place.
Feel free to share your memories of food and home.
Goodbye To An Elegant Piece Of New York
On Friday, another piece of my mental New York looked like it was destined to vanish. The Loeb Boathouse is scheduled to close this fall, due to factors that are hurting many restaurants: rising costs and a shortage of staff.
You might know the Boathouse from its appearance in Sex and the City, but residents and visitors to New York know it as a haven. It sits quietly on Central Park Lake, reachable only by walking into the park.
The food has always been what I call Sarabeth Quality, referring to the cafes founded by Sarabeth Levine in 1981. There are four left in New York (the one we frequented most often on the Upper East Side has closed). Sarabeth’s serves accessible breakfast, lunch and dinner items, several notches above diner food, upscale and comfortable.
The same was true for the Boathouse, with the added feature of its beautiful setting. It was much prettier and chicer than Tavern on the Green across the park, and although it handled lots of events, it still had the intimacy of a pretty New York restaurant.
There has been an immediate outcry, which gives me optimism that the Boathouse can stay in business. I wish someone like Danny Meyer would take over the location, even though it has to be a logistical challenge to operate. New York changes all the time, but the Boathouse is one place I’d love to see go on.
What I’ve Been Writing
This past week, I wrote two stories for the Takeout that were inspired by experiences here in New Orleans. Last Sunday, I crept inside from a hot and muggy afternoon and headed for the fridge. I planned to make a cool cucumber and cherry tomato salad, using produce from the farm box I received the previous week.
I’m used to veggies that stay fresh and crisp for a week or more—so imagine my surprise when I reached into the bag of cucumbers and came out with a handful of slime. As it turns out, it was not my fault. The culprit is the weather. But there are some ways to ensure that your fruits and veggies last longer, as I explained here.
Whenever I move to a new city, I have to re-create my grocery shopping infrastructure. I was so spoiled living in Ann Arbor, where we can get our hands on just about everything, from fresh produce to dishes from all manner of international cuisines.
It hasn’t been quite that easy in New Orleans, despite its reputation as a food capitol. I wrote about the 10 types of places where I get groceries, or as they say here, make groceries. The cookies and pastries at Mayhew Bakery, above, have been consistently delicious. I’d love to hear which kinds of food resources are most important to you.
Keeping Up With CulinaryWoman
You’re welcome to get in touch to share your thoughts, suggest a story idea or request a signed bookplate for your copy of Satisfaction Guaranteed. Email me at culinarywoman at gmail dot com.
You can follow my New Orleans adventures on Instagram @micki_in_nola and my other activities are featured @michelinemaynard.
If you’re using Discord, I recently joined, thanks to an invitation from Christopher Elliott, and my screen name is CulinaryWoman #2124. (I’m not an expert just yet, but the conversations are fun.)
I have some dear friends who have come down with Covid in this latest wave. Please look after your health, and get a booster shot. So far, so good for me. See you next week!
Windmill cookies from West Michigan.
Thank you for including me in this week’s newsletter, Micki!