The taste of earth

Montreal makes sense to me now. It didn’t at the time, but now I think I understand. How you can travel all over the world and taste five countries in just as many steps. Each block offers you a new culture- as you walk it reaches out its hands, daring you to taste its delicacies. And yet, regardless of where you choose to stop or step, there’s a familiarity to it all. Some single thread that pulls it all together, and keeps it connected. Like our menus at home, Montreal takes a little from each of its streets, each of its mini countries, and adds a little of itself. You smell the maple taffy down the street when you stop in for some Japanese green tea, and your tea tastes pre-sweetened. The remnant of your breakfast croissant mingles with the olives you stop to snack on, and you begin to wonder how you can ever leave.
I’ve come to realize that what you eat, and the way you eat is a reflection of the resources of your culture. Food is an echo of what’s available, and what you can afford. But that’s not to say that you don’t mix and match pieces of this and that to make a truly unique sense of whom you are. My friends from Australia and Trinidad invited me to eat food that’s common to them. Although it felt like someone poured hot sand down my throat the first time I tried Trinidadian curry, the spice has a special place in my kitchen. My husband and I still use in it our curries, but we add a little bit of ourselves to it as well. A dash of maple syrup or a potato to makes it more of a comfort food. But the base is still there.
I believe that food is such an essential part of a culture that you shouldn’t say you understand the culture unless you’ve actually immersed yourself in traditional dishes. People are often too afraid to try something new because it’s ‘too different.’ Unfortunately, this spills into every part of their lives. Often, the adventurous people are the most open and welcoming.

You want to know someone, make a meal with them.