The Social Life of Food

An old Portuguese legend tells of that most creative of dishes, Stone Soup. Stone Soup was first made by hungry Travellers, who, arriving in a quiet village with no money or provisions, were refused food by the locals. Desperate for something to eat, they set about boiling a large stone in nothing but water. Soon enough, the villagers were intrigued. Not wanting to show too much interest of course, each wandered over separately to inquire what the Travellers were up to.

“We're making Stone Soup!” came the reply. “It's nearly ready.” And with that, they would enthusiastically taste it. “Almost perfect. Almost, but, it needs a little seasoning. Could we trouble you for a little salt? Just a pinch will do.”

So, one villager brought salt; no-one can deny a cook a little salt, can they? The soup was definitely getting there, but it could still do with a little something. Stock? Could anyone spare some stock? It would make all the difference. And potatoes. Just a few, you know, to thicken it up a bit. “We want to make sure there's enough Stone Soup to feed everyone, after all.” One villager was convinced that a handful of greens would also be a perfect addition to the wonderful Stone Soup. “A little pork too, perhaps? Not too much, you don't want to drown the flavour of the stone....”

Before long, the whole village was enjoying a delicious, simple, Stone Soup, and the Travellers got their dinner. The best part of course, was that the stone was so good, it could be saved and reused infinitely.

The purpose of this legend is unclear. Perhaps it is just teaching that something can come from nothing. Or that too many cooks don't actually spoil the broth. Have your stone and eat it too! Maybe it is a stark warning – do not strange trust men boiling water by the side of the road? Either way there are now numerous restaurants in Portugal selling the legendary Stone Soup, or Sopa de Piedra. That surely is the point. Good food can be created out of the simplest of ingredients, and that the acts of cooking and eating can, and should be, enjoyable social events. Food has a social life all of its own.

A Companion is literally, someone you break bread with. We hunger after our ambitions. When we realise something, we wake up and smell the coffee. Traditionally, the “breadwinner”, once he has earned his crust, comes home to his “sugar” “honey” or ”sweetie”, who will be sure to know the way to a man's heart. Troublemakers are known as the 'bad apples.' Pregnancy is euphemistically called “having a bun in the oven.” More strangely, when accompanying a loving couple, we are seen as a 'gooseberry'. When suspicious, we know trouble is brewing. We English 'Roast Beefs' sneer at the 'Frogs' across the channel, or the 'Sauerkrauts' further north, that is until our 'goose is cooked' and we have to eat our words or eat humble pie. We are occasionally starved of love, we lap up information, and we cook up plans. That is just the way the cookie crumbles... Food pervades virtually every aspect of our lives, even down to our language, expressions and proverbs. Food is also culture. The methods of cooking, preparation and serving dishes varies as much between cultures as the choice of ingredients does. One man's roast dinner is another's Holy Cow.

Food also fulfils a basic, instinctive need. We are all required to fill our bodies with some sort of energy source on a daily basis. Every culture on the planet has some sustenance system in place with which to satisfy this need. We humans are lucky in this respect, in that we are omnivorous; we can and do eat anything, unlike, say, poor Koalas that are restricted to a diet of eucalyptus, eucalyptus and more eucalyptus. Instead, we have the whole world in which to grow and produce a huge array of the most luxurious and exotic foods imaginable, and we choose to eat such nutritious culinary delights as Pot Noodle, burgers, oven chips, breakfast cereals covered in chocolate with added marshmallow shapes, cheese strings, canned spaghetti rings, Dinky Doughnuts, donner kebabs, microwaveable rice in little bags and chip shop curry sauce.... I have recently had the pleasure of feeding a group of bright but infinitely cynical teenagers who took up residence in my café. In their world, the five food groups consisted of grease, sugar, caffeine, nicotine and alcohol (although there was always some debate whether 'grease' should be replaced with the more specific “cheese” or even “chips”, and whether chillies should be a food group in their own right.) That said though, they had no hang ups about food as such, as long as it was put in front of them instantaneously and cost them little more than £2.50 a go. This was a demand I was happy to fulfil, as long as no baked beans were ever involved.

This book is not designed to preach, however. The recipes here are not included with a specific diet mantra in mind, following them religiously will not make you lose weight unless you are already morbidly obese (in which case, get help from someone more qualified!). They will not change your life dramatically, I doubt they will help you reach inner peace or enlightenment, and they definitely will not help if you happen to be allergic to half the ingredients.

It also does not make much difference where the ingredients come from. We are assured on a seemingly hourly basis that misshapen vegetables hand-grown in organic certified soil from the Garden of Gethsemane, watered with pure mineral water and tended by born-again, virginal vegans and transported to your (feng shui'd) table by Buddhist monks on solar-powered bicycles, are far better for you. Somehow I doubt it. I would prefer to believe that the animals I eat had happy lives, that vegetables were not sprayed with all manner of carcinogenic chemicals, that the growth of cereal crops did not further the destruction of the rainforest, and that the fruit was not grown by underpaid workers in the developing world, but I am not naïve. As such, I support the Fairtrade movement whenever and howsoever I can, and I try to buy in as much locally produced food as possible. However, buying non-organic food from corporate multinational supermarkets does not mean you will be eternally damned. Honest.