Picture the most amazing smell you have ever had the chance to lay nose on. Got it? Great! Now, as you smell this wonderful aroma, take in a slow, deep breath, open your mouth, and then take a bite of it! Oh the bliss! There must be a hundred different ways to describe the exultation, the joy, or the pure satisfaction that come upon this type of indulgence. You might even experience something similar to what Marcel Proust experienced when he bit into a piece of Madeleine dipped in tea: his childhood came back in a flash of vivid picture and images, real enough that one would feign try to touch it. I know I most certainly did, how about you? Why does this explosion of memory occur, and what tie does food have with our past?
It had been nearly 3 years since I last experienced Korea. The two years I spent there were now just a memory, treasured, but nothing more. Since that time my life decided to put the pedal to the metal and hit overdrive for a while. I met the girl of my dreams and we got married. We had our first child, a beautiful little girl, and quickly another one was on the way. I wanted to remember more of my time spent in Korea, and I wanted my family to experience (to some extent) a portion of that time. So, I decided to make my favorite Korean dish. Some would call it fermented bean soup, and to the untrained nose it might not seem like food, but the product of eating it :) To me, it is Dwenjang Chigae. I didn't know why I wanted it so bad, just that I did.
I purchased all the ingredients and then went to work. In went the water, and in went the Dwenjang. As the delightful (my wife would never use this word and this food in the same sentence) aroma split through the air at the speed of sound, I began to fell a tingling sensation in my toes. I was instantly back in Korea, that world opened up for me, once again. It was simply exhilarating. However, I was abruptly pulled out of this dream-like state when a sound pierced the air. "What's that smell!!!! That can't be soup!!!!" were the words that flowed from my wife's mouth. I don't blame her at all; the bit of heaven I was smelling was not at all what she was smelling. To her credit, she ate her bowl (barring the octopus legs). I was so proud. My bowl was simply amazing. The first bite was exactly like the last bite (of my 4th serving), heavenly. I honestly forgot I was in my own dining room. Two different realities, the past and the present, seemed to blur before my face.
Why did this happen, it is just food, right? I'm not so sure. There was definitely more than food going on when I was eating. Even though I was no longer in Korea, the whole of the Korea I experienced was contained in the soup. Upon unlocking the aroma and the taste, that all but forgotten world was remembered. For some reason the chigae became a symbol and an association of my past, specifically in Korea, and it awakened all of my senses to those scenes gone away.
Food is a catalyst. It draws in the whole scene that surrounds it, and that scene gets locked into all the aspects of the food itself (the taste, smell, and appearance). The dish becomes more than just food. The association with food becomes a gateway to the past, whether conscious or subconscious, that can be unlocked whenever you eat or smell it. Food is a powerful tool, and the power is in your hands, not only to remember the past, but to make new, wonderful associations now.
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