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Final Journal

Entering this course, I was excited to tackle the study of foreign films - to learn about the identities and traditions of cultures to which I was unfamiliar through the universal language of food. I think this class partially met my expectations. There were some great films, but most of the movies we watched celebrated either American or European multiculturalism. Which isn’t to say I didn’t find knowledge or wisdom within these movies, but if I would’ve loved to see more movies from perspectives I had never experienced. With that in mind, my favorite two films of the semester were Eat, Drink, Man, and Woman , and Como Agua Para Chocolate . Both films exposed me to cultural ideas and values I had never experienced through any other medium. Como Agua Para Cho was especially fascinating as it exposed me to an entire art movement I knew nothing about - magical realism. The other film I loved (and I’m bummed the rest of the class didn’t get to see it) was The Cook, The Thief, The Wif...
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Big Night Journal

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The brothers have sunk all of their remaining cash into preparing a feast for the titular big night. And despite the masterful food, the night quickly devolves into a disaster. The brothers exchange some rather harsh words. And they wake up the next morning facing uncertainty and self-doubt. This could have all been to set the stage for a dramatic final row between brothers. And yet, the final scene of Big Night could not have been further from that. The brilliant simplicity of the final scene in Big Night lies within its three-part structure. Part one: Secondo prepares an omelet. Part two: Primo enters the scene - bringing with him the question of how the brothers will react to one another after the drama of the previous night? Part three: The brothers eat side by side in a gesture of mutual respect. That’s it - no drama, no big fight, just a quiet, five minute slice-of-life. And yet, because we care about these characters so much, and because there’s so much dramatic tension bu...
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On Thursday , I celebrated a makeshift, “quarantine” Passover with my mom and dad. Instead of an elaborately set table for twelve, we ate at the kitchen counter. Instead of spending an hour re-telling the history of the Jew’s enslavement and eventual emancipation in Egypt, we silently agreed to dive straight into our food. And instead of the usual feast, . . . actually that part was the same. My mom spent all day roasting a beautiful brisket. She made a veritable bath of Matzah-ball soup. She baked enough Kugel to serve my entire extended family, and went through about a dozen onions to make the gravy. And despite the stress of these unprecedentedly insane times, I found my doubts and anxieties expelled instantly by the taste of my mom’s cooking. Jewish soul food and African-American soul food have a lot in common. Both are culinary traditions born out of hardship, with many ingredients pulled from scraps - liver and gizzards and bones to make soups and stews. Both heavily rely on f...
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Chocolat Journal

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Shaman as confectioner - confectioner as shaman. In the film Chocolat , the two vocations are indistinguishable.  James Keller writes that the primary duty of the Shaman is spiritual healing. Whereas a doctor aids in damage to the body, the Shaman seeks to remedy damages to the soul. Various members of the village suffer from varying damage to their soul - and through chocolate, tutelage, and advice, Vianne manages to start each of them on a path towards self-betterment and spiritual growth. Several traditional characteristics of a Shaman are given to Vianne - some literally, and some in sly nods of the head. One such trait is the inheritance of ability through family. Like a Mayan Shaman, who learns their trade through a parent, Vianne’s gifts are acquired hereditarily through her mother - a healer of Central American origins. (Further exemplified by Vianne’s daughter too being a chocolatier legacy.) Vianne’s Shamanistic parallels are further revealed in her near clairvoy...
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The United States of America is one of the few countries that never really got the chance to develop its own culinary tradition. It is nearly impossible to define American cuisine when the history of food in this country is influenced by so many other countries. Who’s to say whether the German influenced hamburger is more or less American than the Chinese-American sweet and sour chicken you can find almost anywhere. What the film What’s Cooking does excellently is finding the meal that - perhaps more than any other - defines American cooking: Thanksgiving. Part of what makes Thanksgiving so American is its ability to be interpreted. There are a few agreed upon dishes or ingredients, but there are thousands of ways to interpret those dishes. The cultural divides that permeate What’s Cookin g are least apparent in the food. Even though the food differs drastically across the different households, the care that goes into the food, and the sense of family and ...
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As the enigmatic narrator says in Como Agua Para Chocolate , “Just as a poet plays with words, Tita juggled ingredients.” For Tita, cooking is more than a means to an end. Cooking is an artform. And in Tita’s pitiable life as a mere servant to her oppressive mother, cooking is her one and only means of expressing her emotions.  The film is very literal in how it portrays Tita’s cooking as a channel for her interiority. When Tita is heartbroken over her Roasura’s marriage Pedro and cries into the wedding cake batter, the guests have an immediate and visceral reaction wherein they all start crying and throwing up. When Tita concocts the “Quail in Rose Petal Sauce” dish out of sheer passion and desire for Pedro, her eldest sister Gertrudis is overtaken with sexual desire and, after the heat from her body literally catches the showerhouse on fire, flees from the ranch naked on horseback. At the wedding between Alex and Esperanza, Tita’s “Chiles en Nogada” is crafted with...
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Rarely do movies have a happy ending when they follow the journey of an obsessed artist. In recent years, movies like Black Swan , Jiro Dreams of Sushi, Whiplash, Steve Jobs, and Phantom Thread have taught us that true auteurs must be cold, antisocial, inflexible in their beliefs, and devoted to their craft to a fault. These films validate our suspicions about the enigmatic “artist” - that those who strive for perfection cannot succeed in their personal lives. And this idea extends beyond those whose pursuits are specifically artistic - the greatest athletes, the most successful CEOs, the top lawyers and doctors and politicians - all have lives culturally steeped in tragedy, wherein their achievements are only made possible through single-minded and ultimately self-destructive ambition. Why is this how we perceive these figures? Is there truth to our idea of success? Does it humanize these larger than life people? Does it somehow make us feel better, knowing that those who have surpa...
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