The first Food [in] Film discussion will focus on the Greek film Politiki Kouzina (2003)--A Touch of Spice, English Title--directed by Tassos Boulmetis.

Politiki Kouzina will be an amazing NetFlix or local video-store choice (be local, if you can!) and will take us on an adventure through beautiful landscapes of the Mediterranean with different spices and foods as our guide. The story in the film cleverly and sweetly uses food in metaphors, to propel emotions and emotional bonds forward, evoke and reference political strife and context, and even spotlights Food as a protagonist in and of itself. Tremendous history, exciting perspectives on the use of different spices in food, and a touching story awaits us--for those who have seen it already, perhaps you will agree that it is worth a second screening.

This film has special cultural significance to me (and my maternal, Greek heritage) and was released in cinemas during a period of my life when I was living in Thessaloniki, the northern city [and, perhaps, unofficial] capital of the Macedonian region of Greece. The geographic proximity to the Anatolian region of modern Turkey invite many influences from that region; one in which many Greeks still live, and with which a reciprocal influence between these two peoples is historically and currently recognized.

I will blog next Monday with my own thoughts and ideas inspired by the film, along with Sophia's film-inspired recipe, and hope you enjoy the escape this film can provide. We will touch on A Touch of Spice next week!

Regardless of lifestyle or culture, food remains one of the binding elements of our survival; an always present and integral part of our survival. Oftentimes, the scenes of our life play out on the cavernous walls of our memory accompanied by orchestras of olfactory and gastronomic artistry.

Painting of course can successfully capture the sumptuous red of the perfect apple, or the joy of family or friends sharing a meal. Sculpture can capture the shape; and exquisite sculpture might even convey texture. It is film, however, that can catapult food to the forefront of importance by emphasizing its presence or absence in the lives of those characters with whom the audience is connecting, sympathizing, or empathizing.

In such films, ‘food films’, Food does not just serve as an addendum to the story, or as connective tissue to propel the plot forward. In fact, in many such films Food is a protagonist without whom there would be no story at all. The silent role adds colour to bland settings; it captivates our emotions and focus, while serving also as the backdrop scenery to itself; Food gives depth, avenue for expression, and significance of circumstance when present in a film.

Likewise, the absence of Food in film can be equally as profound in conveying messages of destitution, struggle, or burden. Food is a tool and mechanism that, when incorporated appropriately by filmmakers, approaches a dimension of our lives that we can relate to in a concise and very intimate way.

In the coming weeks, I hope to introduce well known and little-known films that bring Food to the table in a way not all of us may recognize. One film that epitomizes both sides of this coin is Babette’s Feast (1987), a Danish film directed by Gabriel Axel and is an adaptation of Isak Dinesen’s story. Rent this. Net-Flix it. Do whatever it takes to see this film if you haven’t already. Not only is it artistically beautiful, but it is also an exquisite piece that everyone who loves either film or food (and definitely both) should watch.

There is a mystery to Babette that I am not qualified to unveil, nor want to in hopes to preserve its flavour for you. Know, however, that the absence of food [beyond basic and bland] represents the Puritan sensibility of restraint that saturates the early setting of the film; yet ultimately, food in its most glorious and beautiful form serves as the variable that allows for spiritual reconciliation. Food is both a leading and supporting role; it is the character that we watch develop in importance as she integrates into the society of the film. Food makes an impact, it causes change, and it captivates our emotion and piques our palate with ideas and tastes we want to experience, and with inspiring visions of what can be done with and by food.

In the weeks to come, films like Babette’s Feast will be the more detailed lenses of this blog—with analysis, philosophy, and cultural perspectives added to the recipe of this discussion. From this blog, hopefully you will eventually take a way a good film recommendation, a good new recipe from Sophia, and perhaps even a new understanding of how a culture or person views food in their life as reflected in film. Though the Food Film genre is more limited in number, there are plenty of Food Films I have already seen and many more I have on my NetFlix queue that I hope to share with you and that you will enjoy and appreciate in the weeks to come.

In the meantime, try to take notice of where and how food plays even a minor role in all of your favourite films or not-so-favourite; international or domestic art films; a good film, or a terrible film; or major blockbuster productions. Ask yourself: where, if anywhere, is Food? What socio-economic, cultural, philosophical, or religious connotation does food take on? Who relates to food, and who shuns it? This thought process will get us in the mood for this coming discussion!

On a brief aside,  examples of periphal 'supporting role' food-film references that you might notice in 'everday films': In what manner is working at a pulled-pork pit in rural Texas (Whip It) viewed? How does eating alone—the act of food consumption—add impact or emotion to a scene (Being Julia, or Sherlock Holmes)? Why and how is the special access to ingredients and the slicing of garlic, in the prison, such a show of power (Goodfellas)?

Keep an eye out for this column, and I will be back next week for our first showcase of where and how food in film can be brought into your home and to your table as a discussion piece when you break bread with those around you.

For now: Cut! That’s a wrap.

Growing up we had a lot of cookbooks. Usual suspects, Greens, Moosewood, Silver Palate- that type. I would leaf through the pages and delighted in reading every recipe (or at least the dessert recipes). But there was one that I religiously avoided: Beard on Bread. I never actually opened the book- somehow I took it's title too literally— the image of some hippy-looking man with his beard all over a loaf of bread ingrained in my mind. Disgusting.
This past fall my mom sent me several cookbooks to help me settle into my new apartment. And there it was. Beard on Bread had returned to me.

And I like it.

On Sunday I made banana bread, and mostly followed his recipe. Well. Half the recommended amount of sugar, a few spoonfuls of ricotta cheese, and for no reason in particular, I added 2 pinches of coriander. It was good.

I have decided to invent a new word. Gastropsychic. While working on the Winter Food Guide for our next Mini Magazine, I realized that I could not find the right word to describe how grapefruit makes me feel in the Winter. The sour/bitter/sweet taste of grapefruits, combined with their juicy texture is a burst of refreshment in the middle of January, when the days are still short, and going outside in the cold is torturous. I dread the season of heavy stews full of meats and root vegetables. Sooner rather than later, I am tired of eating overly sweet winter fruits. That is why I consider grapefruits a blessing. They are tangy and light, and their color stands out against apples, pears, and sweet potatoes. Even as I write this, I feel my mouth watering, remembering the smell of acid in the air when I peel them open.

Beyond their nutritional value, as well as their gastronomic qualities, grapefruits have strong impact on my spirit. Therefore, my new word is a combination of the Greek word: Gastro, which means relating to the stomach, and Psyche, which means “breath” or “soul”. Thus the word Gastropsychic denotes having to do with the way the stomach and mind relate to one another. Obviously, we all like to eat foods that have an emotional impact on us, but we often attribute those “comfort foods” to cultural reasons and familiar memories. But in my opinion, sometimes the way food affects us has to do with our experience as an individual, impacting our mind, body, and spirit, going far beyond our cultural experience. So if you have a food that means something to you, the way grapefruit does to me, use the word “gastropsychic” and pass it on.