The change in seasons reminds me that we cannot completely sever the fundamental and deeply fixed ties we have with food, however processed, packaged or artificial it may be.
Even if weeks pass by when we subsist off Lean Cuisines, protein energy bars, Red Bull and sugar-filled lattes, somehow times of seasonal transition beckon us to examine our eating habits. As the weather begins to change and we experience the warmth of spring or the first chills of crisp fall evenings, we realize that a full, proper celebration of the new season's dawn calls for homemade lemon meringue pie or grandmother's pot roast recipe. We associate the passage of time with food. Food carries us to the next season, to the new year, easing the transition and helping us usher in the new time.
I believe part of this progression is made by assigning particular foods and rituals to each season. We have chili every year during the Super Bowl, apple pie with the first autumn harvest and grilled hamburgers on hot, lazy summer days. We anticipate the change from winter to spring by dreaming about warm afternoons and fresh berries; from summer to fall, we dream about hearty and comforting slow-cooker recipes.
Associating specific food with certain times allows us to look forward to its quickening and convince ourselves that nothing has changed, that this summer is exactly the same as our previous 10 summers because we can savor the same homemade peach ice cream. We do not grow older, for we remember the taste of the perfect Easter roast lamb and revisit it each year. For the brief time when the meat meets our lips, everything is as it was last Easter. We insist on preparing some recipes only on rare, designated occasions to recreate memories.
But why is it that lamb must be a part of the Easter feast? Hot dogs and potato salad must appear as pool-side dining fare, that peas, asparagus and baby greens must signal spring's arrival? To some extent, we eat for seasonal and symbolic reasons. The Paschal Lamb is a symbol tied to Passover, and we rely on fresh produce to inspire seasonal dishes. Yet to some extent, our associations are entirely arbitrary. Marshmallow Peeps in no way logically correlate with Easter - I suppose I will never understand that connection.
Despite our relatively sedentary lifestyles and our ability to heat our homes and workplaces in the cold months, we continue to crave rich, fattening foods in the winter. Some biological triggers and responses remain, no matter how much modern life has evolved from ancient times. We still think we need an extra layer of padding to see us through the harsh winter. In some ways, though, our attitude toward food runs entirely contrary to evolutionary logic. Ask any child whose favorite part of Valentine's Day is the pink boxes of Nerds. Straight sugar, quick burst of energy - I am not convinced that anyone's association with vast amounts of sugar and chocolate mid-February is deeply biologically rooted.
With the change in each season comes a new chance for a fresh start. We remember how it feels to eat fresh foods and to enjoy dishes which carry intense meaning and forge interpersonal connections, if only for the brief span of the holiday meal.
Emily's column runs biweekly Wednesdays. She can be reached at e.rowell@cavalierdaily.com.
Read More
Lending a hand during the finals push
By Abby Snowdon | YesterdayThe race to the end of the year has begun, and University groups have set up pit stops along the course to help students get to the finish line.
The spring fashion trend for you based on your college lifestyle
By Malone Morchower | YesterdayIn 2024, decades of different styles have come back, culminating in a casual yet exciting fashion.
University gym culture uplifts student fitness
By Mia Tan | 2 days agoFor these students, the most Herculean gym pursuits are less about achieving the build of a Greek god and more about building long-lasting, healthy relationships with the gym.
