I have lived in various spots in the United States, having been born in New York and raised in Texas (and later residing in Alabama and Florida). Houston – the oft-named "fattest city in America", also has, arguably, the greatest food in America. There you can find anything from thick steaks, tender, delicious barbecue, Tex-Mex, and so much more. Nevertheless, I was still raised on a healthy, freshly-prepared food diet by my mother – whether I ate enough was another issue.
Two memories stick out from visiting France as a child: climbing halfway up the Eiffel Tower before succumbing to my fear of heights, and indulging in a crepe my father purchased. My memory is limited, but when I took a bite of that apricot jam-filled treat, I enjoyed it so much that I insisted on getting another (at which point my father handed me a handful of Francs and instructed me on what to say to the vendor. There was anxiety – what if the vendor said something else to me in French? Surely I would not be able to comprehend. Luckily that fear was relieved; I had my crepe and I was satisfied.)
Typically, though, I have maintained a smaller appetite than my peers, usually only going after a second helping if I made the request – which was rare. Food restrictions from Crohn’s disease further prevented my ability to enjoy eating. Many foods ingested – including just about any dairy product – would cause almost immediate, intense pain. The easiest way to manage the discomfort was, at times, to simply avoid eating. I was in a battle against food, and it was easier to not push myself to eat more than tolerable. I became used to this.
Two memories stick out from visiting France as a child: climbing halfway up the Eiffel Tower before succumbing to my fear of heights, and indulging in a crepe my father purchased. My memory is limited, but when I took a bite of that apricot jam-filled treat, I enjoyed it so much that I insisted on getting another (at which point my father handed me a handful of Francs and instructed me on what to say to the vendor. There was anxiety – what if the vendor said something else to me in French? Surely I would not be able to comprehend. Luckily that fear was relieved; I had my crepe and I was satisfied.)
Typically, though, I have maintained a smaller appetite than my peers, usually only going after a second helping if I made the request – which was rare. Food restrictions from Crohn’s disease further prevented my ability to enjoy eating. Many foods ingested – including just about any dairy product – would cause almost immediate, intense pain. The easiest way to manage the discomfort was, at times, to simply avoid eating. I was in a battle against food, and it was easier to not push myself to eat more than tolerable. I became used to this.
The peak of my distaste for food came in the early days on 2003 when on a family vacation in London. Nearly every meal was inedible as I was either put off by the presentation, taste, or quality of the foods available (not that the UK is particularly known for its cuisine; further proof came when, at one point, my brother got a bout of food poisoning). There was one meal in particular where I recall taking a single bite, felt instant discomfort and lost all interest in eating – while an absolute disappointment, the avoidance of pain outweighed the feeling of hunger or any desire for taste.
Just a few weeks later, my condition worsened and I was in the hospital where a small chunk of diseased colon was removed. After about eight days on an intravenous diet I was gradually allowed to ingest foods again, and the offer of milk brought an initial trepidation as I had not managed to consume large quantities of dairy in years, relegated to soy and rice varieties (the chocolate flavors weren't too bad actually).
As my recovery progressed, I found a small sense of liberation – whether warned by doctors not to consume nuts (for fear of puncturing my delicate insides) or a personal avoidance of dairy for potential discomfort, the restrictive diet was lifted. Now my appetite did not increase overnight, but my mindset certainly changed after enduring what felt like an eternity of restrictions; I found more interest in food and intended to enjoy eating more than I had in years, more willing to try foods than before.
I do enjoy eating well and the flavors of dishes that come, but, especially with the space of my tiny apartment in Paris, preparing foods for my own consumption is more of a hassle than I would like. I realized this while at college in Miami – I certainly took for granted available quantities of food from living at home. I would go too long between trips to the grocery store (which I still do in Paris as, while writing this, the only two things in my refrigerator are butter, juice, and expired milk – which is actually better than in previous weeks when I accrued three bottles of milk, all expired, one of which had definitely not been touched for at least a month and a half).
When I do find myself cooking, I rarely handle meat. And I typically dislike leftovers.
As a whole, my relationship with food has been that of basic necessity; I generally perceive food merely as a way of consuming nutrients for energy to get me through the day. I realize that when I have had the opportunity for home-cooked or prepared “gourmet” meals, I find more interest in the foods and will consume more, beyond that self-regulated threshold of limiting my intake. On those occasions when I encounter that post-dining "stuffed" feeling, I wonder if that is what differentiates me when it comes to consuming foods – is that what most people feel every time he or she eats? Or is it my brain that is different, telling my body “you don’t need to keep eating, you are satiated” – even though I may not have ingested enough.
I have had the opportunities to travel around and experience my own gastronomic tourism, whether it has been through enjoying late-night deli meats or the early morning pickle producer in Manhattan, tasting gumbo in New Orleans or schnitzel in Germany; the ability to consume foods of a particular region gives a fascinating look and reflection into the respective cultures producing various specialized products.
During my time in the Jura region I look forward to experiencing some of the topics which were discussed in the Food Culture course before departure – mainly the cultural identity of the region through its cheese, wines, and other gastronomic products and how they still contribute to a distinct identity within France. I anticipate that the individuals have a strong connection to their foods and their land; I would be curious to see what their opinions of American eaters are and whether or not we would be judged as "immature" or "unsophisticated" in their minds.
Just a few weeks later, my condition worsened and I was in the hospital where a small chunk of diseased colon was removed. After about eight days on an intravenous diet I was gradually allowed to ingest foods again, and the offer of milk brought an initial trepidation as I had not managed to consume large quantities of dairy in years, relegated to soy and rice varieties (the chocolate flavors weren't too bad actually).
As my recovery progressed, I found a small sense of liberation – whether warned by doctors not to consume nuts (for fear of puncturing my delicate insides) or a personal avoidance of dairy for potential discomfort, the restrictive diet was lifted. Now my appetite did not increase overnight, but my mindset certainly changed after enduring what felt like an eternity of restrictions; I found more interest in food and intended to enjoy eating more than I had in years, more willing to try foods than before.
I do enjoy eating well and the flavors of dishes that come, but, especially with the space of my tiny apartment in Paris, preparing foods for my own consumption is more of a hassle than I would like. I realized this while at college in Miami – I certainly took for granted available quantities of food from living at home. I would go too long between trips to the grocery store (which I still do in Paris as, while writing this, the only two things in my refrigerator are butter, juice, and expired milk – which is actually better than in previous weeks when I accrued three bottles of milk, all expired, one of which had definitely not been touched for at least a month and a half).
When I do find myself cooking, I rarely handle meat. And I typically dislike leftovers.
As a whole, my relationship with food has been that of basic necessity; I generally perceive food merely as a way of consuming nutrients for energy to get me through the day. I realize that when I have had the opportunity for home-cooked or prepared “gourmet” meals, I find more interest in the foods and will consume more, beyond that self-regulated threshold of limiting my intake. On those occasions when I encounter that post-dining "stuffed" feeling, I wonder if that is what differentiates me when it comes to consuming foods – is that what most people feel every time he or she eats? Or is it my brain that is different, telling my body “you don’t need to keep eating, you are satiated” – even though I may not have ingested enough.
I have had the opportunities to travel around and experience my own gastronomic tourism, whether it has been through enjoying late-night deli meats or the early morning pickle producer in Manhattan, tasting gumbo in New Orleans or schnitzel in Germany; the ability to consume foods of a particular region gives a fascinating look and reflection into the respective cultures producing various specialized products.
During my time in the Jura region I look forward to experiencing some of the topics which were discussed in the Food Culture course before departure – mainly the cultural identity of the region through its cheese, wines, and other gastronomic products and how they still contribute to a distinct identity within France. I anticipate that the individuals have a strong connection to their foods and their land; I would be curious to see what their opinions of American eaters are and whether or not we would be judged as "immature" or "unsophisticated" in their minds.