There is one thing that unites us all, wherever we are from.
I am not going to get all philosophical or peace-and-lovey on you (not that I don’t appreciate and share all those thoughts and feelings, I do, really). It is just that I am writing of something a tad more…well, mundane. Food.
I mean, after all this blog is called Nuts about food, not Nuts about Seneca.
So, back to food, the thing that unites us all, whether we are expats, have moved just a few hundred miles or simply just grown up is what I will call food saudade.
Don’t deny it, I know you have experienced it.
The feeling of wanting something you love badly, something that isn’t available where you live. You know, like the bagels from that corner store you used to eat in the morning before you moved to the West Coast, or NY pizza, because the pizza here just isn’t the same, probably because of the water. Or the delicious biscuits they served pretty much anywhere in restaurants back home, and while we are at it let’s face it, Yankees have no idea how to make corn bread. I have watched American expats look for a decent burger all over Europe, I mean how hard is it to make a meat patty and stick it between a bun? I have heard Italians dreaming of their nonna’s cappelletti on the other side of the ocean. In my family things get even more convoluted: Germans living in Spain, the land of Pata Negra, missing the prosciutto they used to eat in Italy; Americans living in Italy missing smoked eel from the days back in Sweden. And so on and so forth.
But never is saudade more pronounced than when what you are missing is a food from your childhood. A taste, a smell that brings you right back to a time when your knees were scraped and your toes were stubbed from running around outdoors barefoot. It jolts you back to a time when you watched grandma cooking, when being tucked into bed at night was the safest feeling in the world. Maybe that recipe was made or shared with someone special that is no longer around.
We all get that look, those glazed over eyes, when describing something we love from some other part of the world or from the past. Through blogging I have realized that a lot of those things we can’t buy can be replicated in our very own kitchen. I still jealously stash away pecans from the States and big bags of poppy seeds from Germany, because some things you just can’t make, but I have learned that there are more things you can make from scratch than things you can’t. You just have to overcome the fear and push your boundaries.
I happen to be one of those New Yorkers who misses bagels and soft pretzels. I still haven’t made my own bagels but the other day I decided to attempt soft pretzels. It turns out they are easier to make than you would imagine. Granted, it is a little time consuming and requires a few steps so don’t make them late on a Friday night like I did. They looked pretty and were really good when I took them out of the oven, but I think I didn’t let them cool off enough before storing them in an airtight container. The next morning they had gotten a bit soggy and the salt had melted. Nothing a few minutes in the oven couldn’t solve, but not great for my pictures. So even if they feel completely cool to the touch, wait longer before storing them. They keep up to 3 days.
Recipe adapted from Joy of Cooking.
