Betraying the Body

We are all guilty of eating too much sometimes. Our reasons may be internal; extreme hunger, boredom, depression. Or the reasons may be external; holidays, birthdays, parties. When our reasons for overeating are internal (personal), we have control over when we want to stop. However when our reasons for overeating are external (social), there are many social factors that push us beyond our limits. For some reason, we place our social grace higher than our physical wellbeing.

Two months ago, during a weeklong stage in France I experienced this phenomenon to unprecedented levels. I was in the city of Lyon to visit the surrounding wine region of Burgundy and learn about the local food culture. What a beautiful city, I immediately felt at home among the winding streets and red roof buildings. Lyon knows how to eat. The Lyonnaise cuisine has the three best characteristics, hearty, pleasing and flavorful. If Argentines and Americans are considered to be serious meat eaters, the Lyonnaise are a close third.

On a Sunday afternoon I made plans to have lunch with an old friend at her apartment. Her entire family was visiting to see her new for a house warming party. So she had invited, 2 parents, 3 aunts, 3 uncles, 1 boyfriend, 2 sisters, 2 brothers in law, 2 grandmothers, me and my girlfriend. It was a grand event. Needless to say we arrived hungry.

We started the afternoon with drinks and snacks, a little something to stimulate the appetite. After an hour we came to the table, which was covered with about 15 different trays. For an hour and a half we ate, talked, laughed. We had 3 different kinds caviar on crackers, raw vegetables, pieces of fried pork fat, nuts, bread etc. After an hour and a half, both my girlfriend and I were full.

Then my friend said, “Great, now we can have lunch”. At this point, I’m sure you can all remember being in the exact same situation. The 15 trays left, and 15 entrees arrived. The food was beautiful. We ate Lyonnaise, African, Arab and French dishes. There was wine, champagne, couscous, more bread, pork, beef & chicken. For three hours, we ate.

For three hours, I tried to say, ”I’m full. No thank you, I can’t”. But I didn’t. Plates were passed to me 2,3,4 times. Each time I was expected to eat. It would be rude to say “No”. Mothers especially have a look that makes you feel guilty for not eating.

I was ready to die. If I had eaten one more bite, one more piece of food, I would have exploded. By the end of the meal, I was angry for having eaten so much. Why did I do this to myself? Why didn’t I just stop eating?

We are taught to say “Please” and “Thank you”, to eat everything on our plate and not to refuse food when it’s offered. But why do we listen to our manners more than our bodies? Is it worse to be rude than to eat too much? What is so terrible about saying I’ve had enough?

   We are culturally conditioned to take the burden on ourselves. We take the blame for an occasion in which too much food is made and we are expected to eat too much. Our culture has failed us, to place our health and physical comfort below our social appearance. Perhaps we’ve unwittingly blurred the lines between cultural tradition and social conformity. But in a sense, isn’t that what culture is to begin with?

Carpe Noctem

Let me remind you of a situation you are all familiar with.  It’s late. Your feet are throbbing from hours of excessive dancing or your liver is reeling from hours of binge drinking. Maybe both. Last call has come and gone. You gather what’s left of you and your friends and head… home? Not a chance, now it’s time to eat. We have an innate affinity for late night eateries and the food they have. It may be a gyro pita in Greece, a döner in Germany, tacos in Mexico or the ultimate East coast American destination: the diner. No matter where you live or what culture you were raised in, you know that food in the back of your head that you must have after a long night out.

 This is honest food; arguably the clearest window into the soul of the eater. Why? Because this late in the game, all the regular mindless stigma that we apply to food is cast aside. We are eating to recharge our batteries, comfort ourselves and hopefully stave off an impending hangover. Diets don’t apply here. Nor does appropriate portions, sensible bites or chewing thoroughly. We are eating for ourselves.

 Humans are a race of nocturnal eaters. Not only do we like to eat late but we have developed numerous philosophies to reinforce what we eat, when we eat it. I was talking with a couple friends in Germany once about what to eat late at night. Döner was the indisputable answer. I have to admit, it is wonderful food and I grew quite an addiction to it while I was there. It’s flavorful, fresh, light but filling. But idealistically this didn’t cut it for me. “You don’t go out for breakfast after a long night out?” was my immediate question. “No no, that stuff is too greasy; you’ve already punished your stomach enough. You need something light and healthy”.

I didn’t accept this answer at all. For myself, at the time adhered to the East coast tradition of eating a mélange of eggs, hash browns, pancakes and milk shakes drowned in a river of grease, syrup, butter and salt.

During the time since then I have gotten to see how other parts of the world eat late, all having their own prescribed foods for how to treat the body. Whether light or heavy, healthy or debilitating, we gravitate towards these foods and food joints. Of course we do, who the hell is going to cook at 5 am?

 No matter when or where you grew up, you’ve hopefully recalled that late night eatery or food stand that you love. They’re fond memories because these aren’t like our regular meals. These are something different and removed from our normal eating habits. Even if what you eat is culturally or generationally bound, doesn’t matter. What you find is an open window into the other side of culture and food culture. How does a “traditional” meal represent a food culture in its iconography compared to the food we come back to every weekend?

I am writing this article from Greece and am ecstatic when the sun disappears. The later it gets in the night, the more accustomed the nose becomes to the smell of meat roasting on a spit while making the trek back home. Who needs a diner? It’s part of the food culture here and is thus part of the culture. It gives meaning to and reflects the importance of the country’s space and place. Omelets and milkshakes would just seem gross and wrong at a time like now in a place like this. It’s how we do things around here. And if I find myself in Japan after Namihodai, I’ll be sure to grab a bowl of udon or a cheese steak in Philly. And so should you, why? Because that’s real culture, real food and really, really good. Carpe Noctem.