I'm reading James Scudamore's novel Heliopolis, and a passage early on caught my eye. The narrator is telling how, indirectly, it was his mother's skill as a cook which took them out of terrible poverty:
"Food had saved her and food became her mode of expression. Her hatred and determination, her relief and joy, were beaten into souffles, stirred into risottos and baked into pies. I could gauge her mood through what she was making; something simple but soothing, like pao de queijo, cheese bread fresh from the oven, meant contentment, equanimity; richer treats, such as brigadeiros, tiny chocolate bombs with payloads of condensed milk, signified something closer to happiness. If she was frustrated or angry, the conflict would emerge in bold clashes of spice and sugar: clove and orange, chilli and ginger, coconut and saffron. When these exotic pasties and sweetmeats came my way, I kept quiet, loving the sparks they generated on my tastebuds even as I knew they meant I should keep a low profile."
We are familiar with the idea of food providing comfort when we need it (e.g. mashed potato, or mushroom soup for me), but expressing other emotions through our cooking - I'm not aware I do it, but perhaps I do. I wonder, though, whether if you have to plan most of your meals in advance and shop for them say once or twice a week rather than daily, there is less opportunity for such very personal - and visceral - spontaneity. I do believe you shouldn't season food with anger as it is an obtrusive condiment and can spoil the dish, but Ludo's mother (above) seems to have got round that one!
Any foods for particular moods among the Cornflower readership? (I'm off to have a plain, ordinary, everyday sandwich - I wonder what that says about me.)
No one else seems to have lept in to comment, so I'll make a rather minor contribution.
I don't think I have "comfort food" except perhaps cocoa at bedtime when I have a bad cold. As for "mood food" I'm not sure that I really have that either, perhaps more I have mood wines! There are foods that I associate with certain circumstances or locations; an example would be gazpacho which for me is always linked with a couple of female friends in Switzerland and has always very happy associations.
Posted by: Dark Puss | 21 January 2009 at 04:52 PM
I have just taken delivery of Kate Jacobs' 2nd novel: Comfort Food!
One I like to dip into is Roy Strong's Feast - A History of Grand Eating. It would asking too much to gobble this up in one go, but lovely to munch on the occasional chapter.
Posted by: Margaret Powling | 21 January 2009 at 05:22 PM
I don't have 'mood food' but I do have comfort food. It is one which most people hate, but, when I'm poorly (as now with the dreadful cold that is currently circulating) it has to be Lamb's liver, mash potato, greens and onion gravy. Nothing else will do - and I do believe it has healing properties, too!
Posted by: tea and cake | 21 January 2009 at 07:37 PM
I find the whole idea of food a general sort of comfort, but a propos of spicing your food with anger, the thing I remember most of all about Midnight's Children by Salman Rushdie (which I loved!) is the pickle maker introducing the emotions he was feeling into whichever condiment he was making that day...marvellous. I also once nearly bought a Chinese cookbook but didn't in the end because it told me I had to be in a serene mood to cook the dishes in it. Pah!
Posted by: adele geras | 11 February 2009 at 10:30 AM