Musings on my ancestors and my own relationship to food.
Error 404 - brain not found.
This whole blog post started because I realized I didn’t know the order of breading chicken went chicken > flour > egg > breadcrumbs. I’d tried two nights ago and misread the directions and did chicken > egg > flour > breadcrumb and stared at the pathetic floured chicken breast that couldn’t pick up any crumbs before deciding to do chicken > egg > breadcrumb and skip the flour for that night. Error 404 brain not found.
Here I was a 2 days later ready to give it a try again. A little less tired. Now the instructions made sense - it was obvious.
It felt like a no brainer. I’m 28. I should naturally know this! But I didn’t. And the following is where my brain went and I had to write it down because I suspect I’m not the only adult in America scratching her head going - shouldn’t I know this without instructions?
It seems simple but there’s a gap in knowledge that I think a lot of Americans are missing. I think it’s part of why we’re addicted to fast food in our fast culture and why tackling our health can seem like swimming upstream.
Why did our ancestor’s food culture not get passed down?
Since college I’ve continued to be fascinated by immigrants from various countries and their almost innate way in the kitchen. They know their food. This is the way their ancestors made it. The way their mother taught them to make it.
As an American of many times removed from my immigrant ancestors and just an inkling of some of the various European countries I come from I lament the fact that such a rich tapestry of food culture died.
When did it die? And why?
The theory would be cultural assimilation, right? The same way we lost our languages to all learn English we lost our food history.
As someone who absolutely loves a wide variety of food this makes me so sad. I love Mexican, Japanese, Thai, etc. and those aren’t even my culture. What would it have been like to have had a blend of foods from my ancestors? Most likely the female side which would have involved a lot of Polish dishes for me on my mom’s side but also from my father’s side it could have been really cool if each woman carried down with her the dishes of her mothers side and what her mother had learned to make from her father’s culture too.
This is where I find the beauty of knowing first generation immigrants. They are still in touch with their food heritage. They know their traditional dishes. It seems from an outside perspective that America is in a place where it loves variety and the pressure to assimilate should be less. I can’t personally know their pressures but I hope that they will pass down their food customs.
What would their relationship to food and acquiring it have been?
A year or more ago I was in a workshop with a friend where she led us through a visualization exercise to imagine where our ancestors got their food. To rethink how they would likely not have gone to a super market. So where were they getting their food?
I chose to visualize my paternal grandma’s side. I live not far from where my great-grandma lived in Green Bay. I know originally their farm was past the Denmark area. One spring grandma and me drove out past there to a flower sale and it’s a beautiful memory and gave me some more context. I imagined my great-grandma or even great-great-grandma would have gone to a butcher shop for their meat. Selections would have been fewer for all food and there may have had to be multiple stops to get what they needed. That side would have likely been able to get a lot from the land or neighboring farms. There may have been additional ancestors who were more closely involved with manufacturing or other industries and I’m not sure exactly what that would have looked like for them.
Learning and trauma in the kitchen.
A week ago I made pea soup with ham for the first time. I’m 28. I haven’t had it for years. Maybe when I was an early teen or even before that. I have this memory of my mom making it her first time and me gagging on it because the peas hadn’t fully cooked down. In subsequent times she had the texture much smoother. I remember tentatively trying it and discovering I actually liked it now that the texture was smooth.
This stands out in my mind because it’s an experiment that happened. She was trying new things. She and I learned along the way. Sure I googled to make sure how to make the soup - because it was my first time and I’m living in the modern age so I can - but I innately knew I needed to make sure it was all smooth because of my childhood experience. It was cool to think how my brain had retained that lesson. Filed it away, and had it available for use years later. I think that’s the beauty of learning things from our mothers. It’s so natural we don’t have to think about it.
Other things that stand out in the early years were when she made pigs in a blanket - but not the little hot dogs wrapped in dough. These were more like meatballs wrapped in cabbage. While I was not a fan because of the cabbage (typical kid not wanting vegetables) it stands out in my memory as something that only happened once or twice but was a reference to a traditional dish.
And the word goulash. A term that would come up when we had a casserole.
I suspect, much like me, she spent her early married years acquiring new skills because I have memories from two decades ago of pancakes & waffles regularly for breakfast, lunch which would usually consist of a sandwich with a side veggie, and well rounded dinner. As I got older and things declined it was make your own oatmeal for breakfast, heat a frozen burrito in the microwave, and maybe if she was in a good mood she’d make dinner.
I no longer have a relationship with my mother. Sometimes it’s hard to be sure if what she would say about her family was true. When I was younger she’d share that she didn’t really know how to cook when she got married and that she wished she had known. Here I was standing in the kitchen of my new home and it hit me how ironic it was that I didn’t either!
Her reasonings for keeping me out of the kitchen? I was to dirty. It started very early when I’d go out to feed, water, and lock up the chickens - and yes I’d pet them too because I loved them. I saw them morning and evening. I’d have to stay out of the kitchen unless I showered each time after. This made me mad and I felt it totally unreasonable to shower two times a day so I wouldn’t do it.
But what were my grandmother’s reasons for keeping my mother out? Was she busy and it was just easier to make the meals? I pondered this as a newlywed. Ironically history repeated itself.
I wonder where it all went wrong?
Is it just the line between my grandma, mom, and me? Or did it go back further?
A writing friend fondly shared the beautiful memory of her family gathering to make stollen for the holidays. A full family affair. A time of bonding. I think about that and wonder where - not only my ancestors but it many American ancestors - allowed these things to fade.
Was it time? The hustle culture of a past century?
Was it trauma? The loss of family bonds across the world and a desire to assimilate?
Maybe that all seems to dark and it was just a slow and easy choice to let go, but how do we let go of our food? The thing that brings joy, heritage, and connection.
Forging the way forward.
I can’t help looking at the current state of American food - the SAD - aka the standard American diet and wonder how we got here. Surely it’s not just my story but many different family stories all weaved together to create the super market, high processed, detached from our food experience in the masses. We’re lonely and disconnected from our food. We know food can be an incredible bonding experience but we rush through life and throw things in the microwave because we have to get to the next thing.
And frankly another cookbook isn’t going to solve it… There’s so many. Acknowledging that we should slow down and share a meal with our loved ones - or invite our friends over to share a meal with us. Perhaps we could even share in the prep as a bonding time and learning new skills together.
In closing I have a few ideas:
Take radical responsibility for our health and food choices. This is the only way out.
Give ourself grace to learn. If we didn’t learn from our family and already possess the skill we have to teach ourself much like not knowing a language. Don’t beat yourself up. Use what knowledge you currently have and slowly add to it. In 5 years you’ll be surprised how far you’ve come.
Appreciate other cultures foods. Especially if you’re an American detached from your own this is a wonderful way, and easily accessible through restaurants in cities, to discover what you like in the modern age and will keep other foods as part of our larger food tapestry. If you’re lucky enough to have someone share their traditional food with you personally - what and honor.
Explore what our ancestors may have eaten and learning those recipes. This may take a little digging but and extended experimenting but is a cool way to get in touch with the parts of your past that have been lost. The internet makes this easily accessible.
Add joy! What is something you love to eat and might be simple to make? Carve out some time and treat it like a hobby. Let the experimenting be fun and accomplishing something you really enjoy eating be the reward. Maybe you can rope a friend or family member into the process too.
Happy Eating!
