Because everyone loves a good story
I was only there for a mini key lime pie.
“Hold on,” said the guy behind the counter. “There’s something else you need.”
“Oh, really?” I queried politely, ready to buy the pie and get out of the Farmer’s Market sooner than later. The day was hot, my baby was tired, and my family and I had a long drive home. Not picking up on my disinterest, he pressed on with his sales pitch.
“Have you tried our dark chocolate berry truffle cakes?” he asked. I hadn’t, and I didn’t intend to. I wanted lime and only lime. But as I glanced at said cakes, I saw a tantalizing display of gorgeous, spherical confections perfectly proportioned for two and liberally garnished with shaved chocolate and edible gold. I licked my lips subconsciously. Sensing my weakness, he launched into his description, and I knew immediately that I was sunk.
“First,” he said, “your fork slides through the firm yet delicate shell of dark chocolate ganache, sending shavings of chocolate cascading down onto the plate. Inside, you see layer upon layer of decadence: a succulent chocolate cake topped with a mixed berry reduction for a slightly tart twist that perfectly complements the richness of the cake. Surrounding these is a thick layer of whipped chocolate mousse, light as a feather and sweet as a kiss. Trust me,” he said, “I don’t even like chocolate, but I love these.” Despite the fact that he was sick in the head (who doesn’t like chocolate??), I shoved my money at him and demanded not only a mini key lime pie but also one of these magical orbs of chocolate delight, STAT.
The truffle cake suffered a tremendous melting on the way home, but I can assure you it was to die for nonetheless.
Food is a gift from God, and good food is God showing off.
Think about it: He didn’t have to make a world where we ran off of food. We could have been photosynthetic. Or we could have eaten only grass or carrion or algae. We could even be wind-up machines, running off of kinetic energy. But instead, we get to frolic through fields of flavor, and that makes my heart happy indeed. I’m no epicurean or foodie, but I do dearly love to eat all kinds of food. Maybe you can relate.
But have you ever considered how God gave humans the perfect setup to enjoy flavor? We alone possess the unique formula: ingredients + ingenuity = infinite options. Sure, the critters around us can acquire many of the ingredients we do, like fruit, herbs, sugar cane, and water, but when’s the last time you saw a dog combine these to make a refreshing sorbet? God has given humans both the ingredients and the wisdom to combine them with tools, transmogrifying them into entirely new substances. It makes me want to stand in the middle of a grocery store and yell, “ENDLESS POSSIBILITIES!”
One of the things that makes food so exciting is its diverse flavors, sensations, and textures. I really should write a whole post on food texture since it’s one of my quirks, but today I’ll just focus on four specific flavors: sweet, salty, sour, and satisfying.
I’m starting with sweet on purpose because, although I hate to play favorites, it’s my favorite. I want to say that savory is my favorite, but let’s be honest—at potlucks, I spend a disproportionate amount of time at the dessert table. Also, sweet is the sensation picked up by the very tip of the tongue, so it seems a fitting place to start.
One of my favorite sweet treats is fruit. I can splurge guilt-free on a bowl of berries, but I’d love them even if they were fattening. Some fruits are more than simply sweet—they’re exotic. Think of the mellow juiciness of a mango right off the tree or the powerful tang of a pineapple dripping with freshness. But my favorite fruity treat is a cold honeycrisp apple cut into tiny slices and dipped in the magical mixture of almond butter, raw honey, and Saigon cinnamon. The fresh, sweet/tart apple is the perfect spoon for the satisfying smoothness of the dip. It’s a match made in heaven.
But for manmade sweets, it’s hard to beat ice cream. Whether you like plain ol’ vanilla or Chocolate Peanut Butter Caramel Toffee Almond Coconut Cherry Mudslide Crunch, the enjoyment is the same. Cold and lickable, sweet and creamy, rich and satisfying, ice cream is one of my favorite treats all year long. And while I’m not picky, I am particular about certain things, so I enjoy it best either with a crispy waffle cone or else a tiny metal spoon. Tiny bites mean more time to savor.
As much as I love me some sweets, I also can’t resist salt. On its own, salt isn’t one of my favorite flavors, although chefs are able to taste and distinguish between different origins and qualities of salt. But since salt highlights flavor and adds gusto to so many dishes, I’ve come to enjoy it with almost any food. And since the salty sensation is registered around the edge of the whole tongue, it seems that we were made to enjoy it often.
Two of my favorite salty foods are cheeses and meats—all kinds of cheeses and meats. I drool just thinking about smoked ribs and crispy bacon, and don’t even get me started on tender steaks. Pungent cheeses like blue and feta are fabulous on steaks and crackers, while creamy cheeses like goat and brie are perfect with salted deli meats and pastries. One of my favorite salty snacks is thinly-sliced hard salami with smooth goat cheese and crispy herbed crackers. If I can add some ripe strawberries to the mix, I’ll be happy for hours.
Sour and bitter aren’t flavors that I naturally gravitate toward, but there are several exceptions. For example, I recently made a lemon grapefruit basil sorbet from scratch—I’d even grown the basil myself! The sorbet was sweet, tart, tangy, and totally refreshing on a hot day. Sour citrus is perfect for that.
Bitter can be a bad taste, as with burnt food, but it can also be a wonderful flavor. Coffee and dark chocolate are great examples of bitter done right. It took years, but I’ve finally acquired a taste for bold, black, French pressed coffee and any kind of dark chocolate. Now instead of tasting bitter to me, they taste smooth and rich. Our sour and bitter receptors can be found on the sides and back of the tongue, respectively, and if I’m giving that much lingual real estate to those flavors, it’s a good thing I learned to appreciate them.
When these flavors combine in just the right way, we get the last flavor: umami—the sensation of savory. Remember the dark chocolate berry truffle cake I was swindled into buying at the Farmer’s Market? When a bite combined sweet, rich, and tart at once, my umami receptors would explode into dances of delight. Umami is detected with the whole tongue instead of just the tip or the sides, so it’s complete joy for the whole mouth.
What a gift! What a privilege! It’s the favor of flavor!
Ps: If you want to dig deeper into a celebration of the art and science of cooking, you should check out Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat. It’s a book by Samin Nosrat and a Netflix documentary. I’m not usually into reading (or using) cookbooks, but this one’s really great!
Another great post, Em! Loved it. I always feel like my vocabulary grows when I hear you speak or read your work. Thanks for inspiring me!
That post was a real drool….I mean I literally drooled reading it because it was so savory! Thanks for the perspective on all those flavors. I’m enlightened in new ways to use my tongue to check for flavors. As you know I prefer creamer in coffee and milk chocolate, but I’m beginning to enjoy the dark side a little as long as I know creamer is near by (just in case). 😉