Feast, Fast, and Famine

A sermon delivered at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation (Blacksburg, VA), October 5, 2008, by the Reverend Christine Brownlie.

The holidays are coming, and America’s obsession with food is about to spike. Whether you’re a foodie or a member of the “I hate to cook” crowd, you’re probably going to spend more time and energy than usual thinking about, reading about, and preparing food. It’s hard not to get swept up in the avalanche of recipes that pour out of the various magazines, the newspapers, and the TV shows this time of year. No doubt, the ratings for the Food Channel take a jump this time of year as the various chefs showcase their latest and greatest recipes suggesting a fresh new dish or two to brighten up the holiday menus. It seems that in the land of plenty, you can’t have too much food for the holidays.

Even if we’re firmly bound to tradition, the importance of certain foods can become an on-going issue. I’ve known couples that rotate their holiday menus from year to year, or they make two sweet potato casseroles at Christmas, because this is the only way to keep the peace.

In our family, the treasured recipe is for what we Midwesterners call dressing. My maternal grandmother used a unique recipe for her turkey dressing, which she passed on to my mother who passed it on to her daughters. My mother was a fairly good cook when she and my father married, and he was willing to go along with her family’s tradition. My sisters and I imposed this recipe on our respective spouses, sometimes in exchange for their mama’s birthday cake or other specialty. To us, it just isn’t Thanksgiving without our grandmother’s turkey dressing.

But this doesn’t mean that I’m immune to the lure of new food creations. I find it fascinating to study recipes from different eras and cultures. Thanks to the Project Gutenberg, which is publishing a huge variety of books on the Internet, you can find recipes from long ago. The ingredients may be unattainable and the methods of preparation far too complicated and time consuming for today’s cooks, but reading these formulas makes me realize that people have had a keen interest in food and how to prepare it for hundreds — even thousands — of years.

The creativity and the effort that people have been willing to put into food preparation speak of the value we place on the pleasures of the table. We eat to live, but we also eat for many other reasons: enjoyment, sharing time with friends and family, and a break from activities. Food is — and always has been — a source of much more than nutrition. It provides an opportunity for adventure and ingenuity, a sense of accomplishment. Food can be an expression of love for friends and family. Food can be an important part of one’s religious life. In many faiths, it is common to offer food to a deity as a sign of devotion. The practice of avoiding certain foods, like pork or beef or caffeinated drinks and alcohol, is required by some religions, as is the practice of fasting. In every time and culture, food been used to a display wealth and sophistication. All through history, food has been a source of fascination and enjoyment for people of every background and station in life.

But it seems to me that this fascination is escalating at an ever-faster pace to the point that we’re becoming obsessed with food. Once exotic or “special” foods have become commonplace. Novice cooks are trying new techniques and tools once used by only professional chefs. The amount of money spent on professional-grade equipment and lower-end gadgets continues to rise year by year. I understand the reason why small electric grills are popular, but I have yet to grasp why anyone needs a special iced-tea brewer or 200-dollar chef’s knives. What is going on?

I suspect that the Food Channel and the growing number of food-focused magazines are one reason for this intense interest in foods and cooking and cooking equipment. I fell into this web of food consumerism myself several years ago, when I got the Dish TV package with the food channel. I confess that I soon got hooked by Bobbie Flay and Rachel Ray and Alton Brown. I wasn’t so interested in the preparation techniques as I was in the recipes that featured unfamiliar ingredients and new combinations of flavors. (When Alton Brown extolled the virtues of a particular spice called grains of paradise, I spent two weeks tracking it down. Yes, I bought it despite the price tag.) I loved the happy endings as the foods were presented for their close-ups. They looked fabulous and the oohing and ahhing over the taste of each dish was ecstatic! I’d tell myself I’ve got to try that, and I would — food budget be hanged! I noticed that I was thinking about food more often and buying certain food magazines even though I didn’t have time for fancy recipes. I was talking about food more with my friends. I wasn’t quite at the point of obsession, but I was getting close. But as potent and persuasive as the Food Channel can be, it wasn’t the only factor in my growing focus on food.

Like many other people, I try to eat “healthy” foods. I pay attention to the stream of information on food and health so I can make good choices. This isn’t easy. The popular media serves up any number of reports from a variety sources that make claims about the benefits and dangers of eating particular foods. These reports are often contradictory and confusing. What’s good one week is pooh-poohed the next. I’ll add a “super-food” to my diet, only to learn that to get the benefits, I’d have to eat far more than I care to. Sometimes we’re told or read that certain foods can ward off all sorts of fearful illnesses, only to discover later that this isn’t so. Like you, I worry about the issues of sustainability, the treatment of farm workers, and the living conditions of the animals that supply the eggs, milk, and meat that I consume. I’m uneasy about pesticides, hormones, and other additives. Some days I’ve longed for the bliss of ignorance as I’ve pushed my cart up and down the aisles, wondering what I should and could eat. Oh for the good old days, when food seemed simple! Surely, there was a time when Americans had a healthy relationship with the foods they ate.

Not so says Frederick Kaufman. His new book, A Short History of the American Stomach, claims that our forefathers and mothers were as obsessed with food and eating and as we are. They were also as conflicted and anxious as we are today for many of the same reasons.

Those Pilgrims and Puritans who gave us Thanksgiving saw food as more that a necessity for survival. Food was a moral issue that could affect the soul. They worried about the sin of gluttony and the danger of the pleasures of food leading to a dangerous sensuality. They believed that the stomach could be an avenue to human depravity or perfection, hell or heaven.

Fasting was used as a means of both personal discipline and purification. Many ate as little as they could on a daily basis, not just to conserve scarce food but as a spiritual discipline of the body. The Rev. Cotton Mather, a prominent Puritan preacher, encouraged his followers to use purging as a means of self-purification. Kaufman believes that today many of those who followed the Puritan teachings would be diagnosed as having eating disorders.

Feast days were held in the fall as a way to give thanks to God for his providence: abundant crops, good health, and a successful hunt. Community-wide fasts were called in any season in hopes of appeasing God’s wrath during times of hardships or danger. This tradition was carried on for decades. I was surprised to learn that several American Presidents, including Abraham Lincoln, called for public fasts in times of peril

The colonists who came after the first wave of religious refugees did not necessarily share this harsh view of the body. Most took advantage of the bounty that their new home offered. The availability of game, fish, wild foods, and fertile land made America seem like a garden of plenty. Most foods were home-grown, home-prepared and quite plain. Spices, and other ingredients like sugar, could be hard to get. Winter diets were monotonous and malnutrition so that even starvation was a reality to those in isolated areas

As the colonies grew and people immigrated from other countries, they brought their traditional foods with them. Trade between the colonies and the European countries grew, and the wealthy began to import costly wines and other delicacies for their tables. Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and James and Dolly Madison were among the prominent foodies of the era. But as towns became cities, access to more and better foods spread to the common people.

By 1829, even middle-class people had access to culinary luxuries. Storehouses that were once used to store grain and home preserved foods now included new foods and spices. Housewives began using refined flour for their breads and purchased milk and butter from the stores that sprung up. New concerns arose for food safety and purity as foods were adulterated with chemicals and not always carefully handled. Books to help the housewife become a more healthful and sophisticated cook were popular.

But there was another side to this new fascination with food. The nation began to hear the call to salvation through diet not only from the clergy who still warned about the dangers of excesses, but from those who preached a new gospel based on a doctrine of healthy living. Two of the best known were Dr. William Alcott, a well-regarded advocate of vegetarianism, and Sylvester Graham, aka the father of the graham cracker, who was also a vegetarian. Most of these dietary reformers called for a return to basic natural foods and warned against the consumption of refined flours, tea and coffee, store bought milk, and even freshly baked bread. Their lectures drew large audiences, and their books were popular. They reached thousands of people who were eager to ensure their own good health and the health of their loved ones through diet and exercise. But their advice was often contradictory, and people were frustrated. Sound familiar, doesn’t it?

But while some Americans chewed on course whole wheat bread and crackers and avoided store-bought milk, their countrymen and women were enjoying new taste sensations never before available except to the very wealthy: seafood, spices, candies, fruits, and vegetables. The emphasis on domesticity that was hallmark of the Victorian era made family meals the highpoint of the day. Meals were to be a time for enjoyment and bonding of family members, and the foods were to be savored in a gentile atmosphere. Cookbooks that sparked the imagination of the homemaker were becoming ever more popular, and ladies magazines offered new ideas for interesting yet frugal meals. Interest in ethnic and international foods was growing, as were the new devices that made the work of food preparation easier.

The First World War, the Great Depression, and the Second World War brought a new concern for making the most of foods and avoiding waste. While searching a Web site called Food Timeline, I discovered a government document that was published in 1918 called Foods That Will Win The War and How to Cook Then. It offers some rules for food preparation that are just as applicable to our own time:

1. buy it with thought
2. cook it with care
3. serve just enough
4. save what will keep
5. eat what would spoil
6. home-grown is best

From the end of the Second World War to today, it seems that the American food scene is like an exploding galaxy moving in all directions at once. Take a stroll through the cookbook sections of any Big Box bookstore, and you will be amazed at the variety of cuisines and specialties that are available. This is not my mother’s Betty Crocker ring-binder, and even Julia Childs, with her ground–breaking Mastering the Art of French Cooking looks passé.

The concern for health and the hazards of the modern diet is reflected in the number of diet books. They offer an amazing variety of options: not just for those who what to lose weight, but for those who want to overcome various ailments, look younger, bulk up, or feed the brain — or a growing fetus.

A slow saunter up and down the aisles of your average grocery store reveals an amazing number of foods that would not have been available as recently as five years ago. Ethnic and organic foods are getting more shelf space. Gourmet items, like balsamic vinegars and Thai spices, are becoming as commonplace as peanut butter and Jello. The produce section holds exotic items like kiwi fruit, shiitake mushrooms, fresh ginger, and five different kinds of lettuce year-round; a far cry from the limited seasonal offerings I recall from my childhood. The types and varieties of frozen foods are astounding, and the cereal aisle is flat-out overwhelming! Are we well served by all of these choices?

Not that everyone likes to cook at home, even if they have a state-of-the-art kitchen. And here’s another opportunity for a myriad of new tantalizing choices! I’m impressed by the number of ads from the big fast-food names and the chain restaurants that try to lure me into the restaurant with their new taste sensations and giant burgers! I recently overheard a heated conversation between some young teen-aged boys who were eagerly discussing the new taste treats they’d recently tried and the ones they were looking forward to tasting. The competition among them for the most burgers consumed at the greatest number of brand-name eateries was intense. I’ve heard similar conversations among young adults who try to impress each other with their knowledge of exotic foods, fine wines, pricy eating establishments, and the Food TV chefs they admire. Food, glorious food! How we love you!

Obsessive love is never healthy. With the rise in health problems related to food consumption, the growing awareness of the environmental costs of modern methods of food production and distribution, and the increase in the number of people who need food support, it would be wise to step back and consider the price we pay for our obsession with food. Maybe a move toward common sense and moderation would take some of the pressure off of the whole complex web of food issues. Maybe we’d enjoy feeding ourselves, our families, and our friends a lot more if we didn’t feel the need to keep up with the TV chefs or buy the pricey ingredients that they hawk. Remember those grains of paradise that Alton Brown put me onto? To tell you the truth, I honestly don’t know what the hype was all about.

As the holidays approach and our collective focus on foods becomes more intense, I’d like to borrow some words from Michael Pollen’s book, The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. He encourages us to seek “full consciousness of what it took to create this meal.” He starts with the yeast in the bread, (which, he notes, comes from the air we breathe and not a jar or foil package) to the animal that became the roast, and to the source of the vegetables, fruits, and other foods that we consume. He claims that a meal that acknowledges such things, reminds us of the debt we incur — whether to the food industry or to nature. Eating, I would say, reminds us of the interconnected web of which we are but a small part.

When you sit down with your friends and family for the upcoming holiday feast, my wish for you is quite simple. May the food be as delicious as your memories recall, and may the love among you be as sustaining and life-giving as the foods you share.

May it be so!