What made you a foodie?

[CtznCane]

To one degree or another, all of us on this website are addicited to food in some form or another. Whether it is cooking, eating out, wine or whatever, something got us started. Something kicked us in the butt and motivated us in this direction. What was it for you? Also, of all the meals or food experiences, which is your most memorable?

For myself, I grew up (a kid in the 50's & 60's) with a Mom that worked and couldn't cook to save her life, a Father who worked swing shift and could cook, and a Southern nanny who was perhaps the best comfort food cook that ever lived. For myself, my father had been a cook in the army in France in WWI. Okay, so he was 52 when I was born, but he sure could cook. He had a passion for good food and good restaurants. To this day, the best advice he ever gave me was 'if you want to go back to a restaurant, over tip, even if the service is not good the first time and ask for the same waiter.' By gosh he was right, as it has never failed me to this day. As a young man it worked great as I had waiters programmed. For me though, bottom line is my father's passion (along with my own enjoyment of food) is certainly what has fueled my desires.

As to my most memorable food accomplishment, it regards the nanny I had. We called her "Aunt Nora" and they became hard and fast family friends. This woman made THE best fried chicken and custard that I can only dream about tasting again. Being from the south (Tennessee) as was my Mom, the southern traditions held true. While I've cooked a lot of memorable meals, one New Years, the year before she died (she was widowed by then living with her toy poodles) I fixed and took down to her Black Eyed peas, greens (I used Swiss Chard) and fried Pigs Feet ( I breaded and fried them) on New Years. The meal came out good, not great but good, but it meant more than any other meal I've cooked.

We all have a history. Histroy also teaches us. History helps us know one another. That's mine, what's yours?

[Chris Amirault]

Interested folks might want to check out this related thread, Childhood clues that you'd become a foodie....

[pam claughton]

I was fascinated by food at a ridiculously early age. My first word was 'cookie'.

When I was really young, we lived in Gloucester, MA, near the water, and my dad introduced me to lobster as soon as I could eat solid food. He used to buy bags of lobster bodies from the fish market, and we'd sit there digging out bits of sweet meat, sucking the juice out of the legs, and I thought the green tomalley was the most delicious thing.

I think I was about 5 when my dad taught me how to cook. We made popcorn, cooked in oil in a big saucepan, and then drizzled with lots of butter and salt. I've been addicted to it ever since, and even worked in a movie theater for years as a teen, making and eating popcorn, and never got sick of it.

My grandmother was a great cook, especially her spicy spaghetti sauce. I used to stand on a stool and watch carefully as she added a pinch of this and a pinch of that, stirred in the tomato paste, browned the garlic and onions. She did it by feel, and never measured anything, said if I just paid close attention, mine would come out just as good. She was right, sort of. Hers was still the best.

Where I really learned about cooking was waitressing at various restaurants on the Cape, and having friends in the business. I sort of learned by osmosis, by watching them put it all together, asking questions, and trying do the same at home.

Most memorable meal growing up was my other Nana's raviolis. These were a magical thing, larger than life in our family. Every Easter and Christmas, we had raviolis if we went to Nana's house. They were made from fresh, soft pasta and filled with a blend of spinach, sausages, and cheeses. The 'gravy' served with it was a smooth puree that had simmered with beef until the meat fell off the bone, and the seasoning was perfect. It used to take her hours to make everything, as there were no food processors in her day, and if there were, she probably wouldn't get one anyway.

Pam

Edited November 16, 2005 by pam claughton (log)

[jeffperez62]

First of all, my mom couldn't cook for shit.......hamburger helper, kraft mac-n-cheese etc. A gourmet night was a steak with canned mushroom soup poured over it, wrapped in foil and baked in the oven. Good Eats!!

In my teens I worked in a deli, a few years later I was a dishy/prep in a local restaurant. One night I was told "Fu##face called in sick again...you're workin' the broiler Bitch!!

My nick name was the "overcook" becauce everything came out wrong. After a while I caught on and was moved to saute' station and the rest was history. I feel in love with what I do for a living and to this day, I learn or see something new everyday. That's what I love about being a foodie.

I never was into wine until my first semester at CIA when a friend showed up at my door room with a "85 Lynch Bages..........15 years and a 400 bottle collection (the damn thing keeps growing) later, I have a new love.

[Carrot Top]

Well, I am not so sure I am a foodie.

Not that there is anything wrong with being a foodie, at all.

I remember two foods distinctly that made me swoon in my youth to the point of feeling as if I were falling in love. Lustful love.

One was a big twist of pink cotton candy, when I was seven. I think I moaned in ecstasy through the whole fluffy thing of it, and literally felt as if I were somehow being brought close to God.

The other was the first loaf of freshly baked bread I'd ever tasted, a big round loaf, torn into pieces with my hands, with a chunk of cheddar cheese to go along with it, when I was thirteen years old. I sort of gobbled at it as if to eat it would be to save my life. It felt as if I needed it, needed it badly.

Then of course that Chateau Latour of some good vintage in later years and those silver salvers of caviar at Petrossian were pretty damn good, too.

Yeah.

Can't stand cotton candy anymore. I wonder if this has some religious significance for me.

[Grub]

I tried to cook things for a long, long time, and never had much luck. There just seemed to be something magic about being able to put ingredients together and make something edible from it, but my efforts were rewarded the same way as when I tried to learn how to perform magic tricks -- just complete failure, and I'd have NO idea why this was so.

In particular, I remember trying to fry up a pile of ground beef, with whatever I found in the supermarket shelves through in -- water chestnuts, bamboo shots (which seemed extremely exotic and elegant to me) along with various condiments like soy sauce, ketchup, mustard, whatever... I couldn't for the life of me figure out why the beef wouldn't brown up. It was just get gray and nasty -- not at all like the gorgeous browned, caramelized stuff I'd seen in a magazine somewhere. I obviously had no idea about basic cooking concepts like not overcrowding the pan, or the notion that things release liquid when they're cooked -- I just tried high heat, low heat, and everything in between. It was horrible. I had no idea what I was doing.

Eventually, I managed to learn how to cook a few simple dishes, but overall, I would certainly have given up on cooking -- except for one thing...

I was staying in a house (rented by my company) with a couple of collegues, in England, in a small town that only had a few restaurants. We got sick and tired of the local food and decided to cook something. The Englishman and myself made a meal each -- completely unremarkable stuff, but at least edible. Then the third day, this dude who was from Spain, but had grown up in France, served up some stuff that just completely blew us away. I mean, the guy REALLY knew how to cook. I particularly loved the sauce. It was really impressive.

We were kinda taken back -- like we'd taken the dude to shoot pool, only to realize the guy was a complete pool shark, ya know? We seriously thought this dude was a classically trained chef or something -- but apparently not. He just happened to have grown up in an environment where people cooked a lot.

It blew me away that someone who wasn't a professional, could cook something that good -- and elegant... We kinda joked with him, saying "Ah, so THIS is why the chicks are all over you, uh?" (They were -- but that was cause he was basically extremely good looking, and basically, a really likeable dude, mind you) -- but he replied sagely, that people will LIKE you, if you can cook a good meal. They'll only LOVE you, if you can create a good dessert... Sounded very smart, to me.

I still can't make desserts, tho...

[Milagai]

me, a foodie? don't know...

i grew up with my mother's cooking, which was fabulous

and i took for granted because all my friends' moms cooked

superbly too....

therefore i grew up good for nothing unable to boil an egg...

until i left home and came to earth with a thud realizing

if i wanted to eat well i had to learn to cook.

several disasters the first few times, then it started to come together....

but my style of cooking is still to only vaguely look at the recipe

and then throw things together until they look and smell right,

so i still cannot bake to save my life....i leave that to

mr methodical step by step spouse....

if i could only turn my kids into foodies i'd die happy

but they are still on the "air-etarian" diet...

milagai

[DTBarton]

My mother and both my grandmothers were excellent cooks (Mom still is). My father was interested in food and would cook sometimes and bake bread. I enjoyed cooking as a kid, particularly with my grandmothers. My older brother is also a very good cook.

My first two real jobs were in restaurants, ages 16 - 18.

When I was 20, my parents moved to Europe for 5 years (Netherlands) giving me the opportunity to spend a good bit of time there and further widen my culinary horizons.

So, now at 45 I'm pretty obsessed with food and cooking. I do find that my focus now is more on searching out the best ingredients rather than making super complex recipes.

[repoman]

I was fascinated by food at a ridiculously early age. My first word was 'cookie'

That’s too funny. My first word was num-nums, apparently I was a foodie from the get go. I guess I was always very adventurous in my eating and I am not sure where I got it because neither of my parents are very adventurous. Maybe it comes from my Grandpa on my mom’s side as he was always talking about some of the great meals he had eaten and nearby fancy restaurants.

When I was a kid I always wanted to try different things on the menu. While my parents were often eating steaks, chicken, and walleye pike at the supper clubs we visited I would order the roasted duck, lamb chops or scallops (which was one of my aforementioned grandfathers favorite foods). It was my way to try foods that I would never have the chance to try at home.

In college I would be ridiculed by roommates for making strange concoctions that stunk up our apartment like chicken curries, chicken mole, and fried calamari while they dined on Hamburger Helper and frozen pizza. On spring break they watched in horror as I slurped down raw oysters at a beachfront restaurant in Florida. One friend always could figure out what I was going to order when we went out to eat. He just looked for the most unusual strange thing on the menu and figured I would try it.

I think the last 5 years has really solidified my obsession with food. One of the more defining moments came when I served pasta for my girlfriend (now wife). I will forever remember the the look of horror on her face when I emerged from the kitchen with a big industrial size green can of that Kraft parmesan cheese. She informed me that was not parmesean. For Christmas that year I received a huge hunk of Parmesano Reggiano and one of those cheese graters with the rotary handle. I also believe my pasta was about 5 minutes past al dente. I always grew up with mushy pasta so I assumed that was how it was supposed to be made. Another defining moment was the first time I tried sushi. I was never too squeamish about sushi, I just never had occasion to try it. It was love at first bite. Since then I have become a once a week addict.

I am constantly seeking new things to try. I get excited when new restaurants open in the area. I am constantly reading cookbooks, internet sites (like eG) and magazines to improve my cooking techniques and ingredient choices. I will happily drive across town to buy seafood from a preferred fish monger instead of settling for the garbage at the grocery store down the street. I suppose using the term “fish monger” would classify me as a foodie. When I go out for Mexican food I listen to all of my friends and family order the typical chicken enchiladas, tacos, or combo plates and when its my turn I ask about the different moles that they offer. As I sit in my cube at work I think about what I will make for dinner starting at about 9 am thinking about the cooking method I will use, the ingredients, the side dishes, the starch. By the end of the day I have the dinner planned out in my head and I can’t wait to get home and try it out.

[srhcb]

Well, reportedly, my first word was "bite"?

In retrospect, I guess that upon seeing the word "foodie" I supposed I had slowly become one over the years having read MFK Fisher in The New Yorker.

SB

[Mayhaw Man]

Aside from being exposed to a series of fabulously talented home cooks when I was growing up (from virtually every imaginable socio-ecomomic and ethnic group that existed in the Delta in the 1960's) and working in kitchens for many years, there was, absolutely, a single moment when I decided that this food thing was probably a bit more complex and interesting than I had ever considered previously.

In a one week period I had meals at Esther's (closed for years now, on the corner of Camp and Gravier-run by a woman from Natchez and the first really, really fine dining in what has now become the Warehouse Dining District and later went, I believe, to DC) and another at what was then the new Grill Room in the Windsor Court, which was being overseen at that time by Kevin Graham (tremendously talented guy who has now disappeared, by his own choice, into the ignomy of South Florida Country Club Cheffing).

Those two meals, despite the fact that I had been eating in fine New Orleans restaurants since I learned which fork to use, defined what was, to me anyway, about to become the "New Southern Cooking" or "Nouvelle Creole" or "whatever". There was some seriously good food being served there is a way that clearly involved a great deal of thought, care, but a happily small amount of pretention (sure, the Grill Room is and was expensive and crazy nice, but really, even beyond the old "British Hunt Theme" it was not pretentious-particularly the service, which was always kind of down to earth).

The food, the service, the kind of food, the kind of service-they opened me up to the possibility that Galatoire's was not the best restaurant in the world (though I can easily make that argument with anyone that cares to tee it up-it's a symantic one, but a fun one) and that there might be something more out there that could be done with all of the stuff we eat/ate down here all of the time.

Also, as an aside, that night at Esther's I was served a cinnamon apple sorbet at the end of the meal that is still, to this day, the single best dessert that I have ever eaten. It was like nothing that I have ever had before or since and just typing this makes me remember every spoonful. Lord, it was good.

[Foodie Craze]

Interesting thread!

I really believe many of us became foodies in rebellion against the bland flavors of our youth.

In 1967 our family moved from New York City to Tulsa, Oklahoma. While the family was still temporarily residing in a motel, my father and I went out to find some Chinese takeout. I’ll never forget the look on my father’s face when he was asked, “What kind of bread do you want?” Fresh from ethnically diverse New York and a world traveler, he had eaten feijoada in Rio, focaccia in Brooklyn, and fabada in Argentina, but he had never been offered bread — sliced grocery store bread from a plastic bag no less — in a Chinese restaurant. It was as though we had been transported to another culinary dimension. At that time, America was nearing the end of an era when vegetables were overcooked, choices were limited, and a “meat and three” was the main staple. Ethnic foods were rare.

John Steinbeck, in his 1962 best-seller Travels with Charley, wrote of America’s

clean but tasteless food: Can I say then that the America I found has put cleanliness first, at the expense of taste? And … that the sense of taste tends to disappear and that strong, pungent, or exotic flavors arouse suspicion and dislike and so are eliminated? If this people has so atrophied its taste buds as to find tasteless food not only acceptable but desirable, what of the emotional life of the nation? Do they find their emotional fare so bland that it must be spiced with sex and sadism through the medium of the paperback? And if this is so, why are there no condiments save ketchup and mustard to enhance their foods?

In that dark, benighted middle age a few culinary outposts were defended by foodie pioneers, metaphorical arrows (asparagus spears?) in their backs. A few of the notables were Chuck Williams, Julia Child, Alice Waters, and “Trader Joe” Coulombe. Chuck Williams had opened Williams Sonoma in ’58 to sell gourmet ingredients and equipment he’d seen in Europe during the war. In ’61, Julia Child became a gourmet phenomenon, at once demystifying and glamorizing French cooking for a generation. In 1967, “Trader Joe” Coulombe changed the image of his convenience stores to compete with an upstart called “7-Eleven.” He decided to go upscale, and offer wine and gourmet items. In ‘71 Alice Waters opened Chez Panisse, spearheading the “California cuisine” movement.

But even as late as 1975, food service had remained an unglamorous and low-status profession. That year, chef & author Tony Bourdain decided to attend culinary school after a formative commercial kitchen experience in Provincetown, Massachusetts. On his show “Cook’s Tour,” he says that telling his parents he intended to attend CIA — Culinary Institute of America — was “roughly the equivalent of saying, Mom and Dad, I’ve decided to become an arsonist.” He adds, “Today, being a chef is an honorable profession.”

This is getting a bit long -- you can download more of this. Some of this is quoted from my article FOODIES IN AMERICA: GASTROPORN, CHOWHOUNDS & BLOGS available on this web-page [url=http://www.foodiecraze.com/whatsa_foodie.html]http://www.foodiecraze.com/whatsa_foodie.htm

Edited November 17, 2005 by Foodie Craze (log)

[cathrynapple]

my biggest food influence? my dad. no contest. my father had to teach my mother how to cook when they got married.

my dad makes indian food best. i crave his curry. he always demanded i try "something new" at restaurants. i grew up in a tourist town in south africa, so there were lots of WONDERFUL restaurants. (not that we could afford them much!)

on sunday afternoons we'd drive out to the country and eat lunch at a hotel. the hotels grew their own veggies and milked their own cows. everything was so fresh and wonderful!

my dad taught me to appreciate finer foods. he also taught me to hate picky eaters! haha

but i think th most valuable thing he taught (by example) was to eat whatever my mom cooked, no matter what. or else.

[sazji]

I can think of many different things...my dad was a real "meat and potatoes" guy, my mom is Greek-american. Visits to the Greek relatives in North Carolina always involved foods that were unusual to most kids growing up in Iowa in the 60s...halvah, roasted chickpeas, baklava, tsoureki (sort of like challah but not dry and with more eggs and a bit sweeter and aromatic)... I think I was probably the only kid in my neighborhood whose mother regularly made yogurt. Grossed out several friends with it.

The first time I ever tasted broiled lobster - I was in third grade - was memorable.

My first piece of cheesecake too. I remember seeing the word "cheesecake" in some children's book, and being captivated by the idea...! It was interesting that it tasted pretty much like I imagined it would.

When I was still in Elementary school, my Grandfather came to stay with us. He liked Chinese food. Up till then, I had never gone to a Chinese restaurant; Chinese food meant La Choy chop suey over those greasy crunchy noodles. We would go to a place called the "Ming Garden." Rather typical Cantonese stuff though not bad considering where and when we were. I don't think we ever did it "family style," everyone just got their dish. I always got the brilliant red sweet and sour pork. It was fascinating. My first job, about 5 years later, was as a busboy at that same restaurant. I was fascinated as I watched a school friend whose uncle owned the place stringing snow peas. There was a choice of 10 or so things we could order for our employee meal; anything else we could get if we paid half price for it. Ordering a dish that cost me 3 dollars was a lot when I was only working one day a week and got 1.65 per hour, but I suppose I was already headed towards foodieism because I forked it out several times to try different things. Luckily my best friend was Chinese and I got to try much more exotic things at his house just about any day of the week!

Living in Greece in 1976 and then again in the 1980s -- and then returning to the midwest -- was probably the real thing that spurred me to get curious about how to make more interesting food. Bread was the first thing I really missed from there. (Now when I go back to the US it's plentiful and inexpensive really fresh vegetables and fruits.)

I had lived in Seattle for several years and rarely visited Chinatown, until I became involved in playing Cambodian music and our group would frequently go to Vietnamese Pho restaurants after performances. Suddenly Chinatown became a once-a-week stop...

I think foodieism just sorta creeps up on you!

Edited November 18, 2005 by sazji (log)