It's incredible how the memory of an extraordinary meal can stay with us for years. Food is memorable because we experience it with one of the most vibrant and pleasurable of our senses - taste. Most often, we share an incredible meal with other people, and this adds greatly to the memories that surround it.
Of the many extraordinary meals I can remember, one of my favorites was a delicious mid-summer dinner I shared with a college friend who came home to meet my family three years ago. The idea for the meal was spurred by the authentic tajine my sister had lugged home from Morocco after her semester abroad. We were eager to try it out, and that night presented the perfect opportunity of willing guests and ready ingredients.
The result was a full-out Moroccan-inspired feast, beginning with white cranberry, ginger-infused cosmopolitans; climaxing with seasoned, tajine-cooked lamb, curried chicken and olives, rice mixed with dried fruits and nuts, and artichoke hearts stuffed with lemon-soaked peas; finally culminating with garden fresh strawberries and cream.
When I look back at this meal, I remember more than the flavors of that warm, June night. I remember the fun of preparing the food, the wonderful guests we shared it with, and the beautiful time we all had together. Had it not been for the food, perhaps this memory would not be so vivid.
In a similar way, I recall the homemade tiramisu of my study abroad experience in Italy. Who wouldn't fall in love with a nation whose famous dessert is comprised of coffee-liqueur soaked ladyfingers layered with creamy mascarpone cheese?! I ate my way through Italy and thus remembered every bit of it.
Of course, this positive, memorable property of meals can also come in the reverse. While we enjoy recalling the good meals, it's difficult to forget the bad ones. I'll never forget a meal I had two years ago in a certain East-Asian country.
Despite my best attempts to be a courageous eater, I could not bring myself to down the cup of a gelatinous, unknown substance I have reason to believe originated in the ocean. Meanwhile, one of my dinner partners swallowed all the while whimpering to himself, It's fuel, Chad. Just fuel.""
A similar memory of a meal crops up when I recall a Christmas Eve smorgasbord I shared with a bunch of Swedes on a ship near the Antarctic Peninsula six years ago. It took more than a shot of aqua vitae to get through numerous varieties of cold herring salad, unseasoned meat and boiled potatoes.
Although dessert was a welcome relief from the entreés, it's arguable whether the gingerbread and chocolate truffles fully compensated for the unpleasantness of the pickled herring that preceded it.
But even negative food recollections invoke the joyful memories that surround them. I'll never forget how hard I laughed as I watched Chad attempt to down the unidentified goop. And that shot of aqua vitae? It was my first ever.
Taste invokes powerful memories and by using it, along with our other senses, to capture an experience, we are able to remember that experience more fully. This extraordinary quality of food is one of the many things that makes both eating and life enjoyable and, above all, memorable.
