I think of myself as an anti-foodie. Unlike most people I know, I don’t dream of food and I don’t plan my vacations around reservations in 5-star restaurants. I don’t read cookbooks in my bed, and I hate garlic. I am indifferent at best about food: I eat to live. I don’t live to eat.
My favourite culinary experience remains the cheese sandwich that my mother made for me when I was about 18, wrapping it in waxed paper for me to eat on the subway. I remember it was white bread with large chunks of orange cheddar mixed in with chunks of butter. I was hungry, which is why I think loved that sandwich so much. But it was also because she made it for me, and at a time when I wasn’t sure of her love, so that made it feel special.
When I shared some of this story recently with Malcolm Jolley, the charming founder and editor-in-chief on the on-line magazine, Good Food Revolution, he said that it only showed that I really was a foodie at heart. “Food is emotional, ” he said to me. “You seem to have got it.”
We met at Le Select, a french bistro near my workplace, and he was interviewing me about my book, Paris Times Eight. He wanted to focuse on the book’s food-related moments.
At first, I was skeptical. All I could recall was only drinking a lot of coffee in Paris, and rarely eating becuase I was (a)0 always broke (b) worried about getting fat (c) unsure how to order (in French) off a fancy French menu.
But when pressed, I realized my book does have a lot of food references in it. See what a good interviewer can do?
I will let Malcolm tell you more about that story. He assures me the video he took of our interview (featuring me me with a serious case of hat head) will be published on-line, soon.
Here’s a link to his scrumptious website: goodfoodrev.com