Food Chain (Food)

There is a pervasive notion about being cool. There are certain rules that you must adhere to, like:

- Jazz is the coolest music you can have in your collection. It shows your maturity and depth.
- Pesto, like George Costanza duly noted, is forever the class choice for pasta.
- Reading Paris 1919 is a must. If you don’t, you simply can’t call yourself a reader or a writer.
- Getting rid of your television shows how serious you are about life’s passions.
- The pointier the toe on your shoe or boot and the smaller your purse, the cooler you are.

And I agree with almost none of them.

Except when it comes to food. Then it’s oven mitts off and if you can’t see how great paella is, I can’t help you.

Nah, just kidding, but its funny how in the world of food and cooking, it’s quickly revealed how much of a food elitist you are, just by where you shop and what your pantry must-haves are. Take my friend Chris, for example. He only buys organic, free-run eggs. 5 bucks a carton. Are you insane? I mean, I admire the guy, but I do think it’s a hefty price to pay. However, we all have our own little food idiosyncrasies.

Take me for instance. I cannot get enough of Sunflower Kitchen’s Spicy Hummus. All hummus pales in comparison. And up until one month ago, I hated hummus. The dry texture, the pasty consistency… It wasn’t until this product that I came over to the hummus side. And that’s just the beginning.

We all have the products we can’t live without. For Victoria, it’s canned chicken broth and Alissa likes her hot sauce. But it’s the quality of the product and how expensive it is that gets you higher on the food(ie) chain.

If you are buying no name, God help you. If you are shopping at The Big Carrot, you are edging closer to Godliness. And if you are getting a box of organic shipped to your door every week, get down and prostrate – we’ve found our new leader.

Now, I know that you think I’m exaggerating, but this is the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Here’s an example:

I am all about the canned bean. I know the difference in taste and texture when you take the time to soak lentils or yellow peas, and I love a good lentilles du Puy, but for cooking on a daily basis, I love to crack open a can of some kinda bean and make a meal happen. Now, I know that a lot of you reading this might never want to speak to me again. I understand. That’s how it is in the food world. And I have to admit, that sometimes upon learning about a friend’s cooking methods or contents of their pantry, I think, can I still be friends with you?

Of course I can. It’s just a momentary lapse into 1990 mindset, when Belgian endive, stuffed olives and gin martinis were where it was at, and if you weren’t there, you’d get left behind.

And the food world isn’t that harsh really. I mean, we have Rachel Ray cooking up 30 minute meals and every women’s magazine has a page of a pictures that include a spaghetti package, a tray of boneless chicken breast and a jar or can of some kinda sauce and voila – dinner in a hurry. So let’s not get all Nigella and think that everything must be just so - or robin’s egg blue.

Nah. I eat pepperoni and bacon pizza off the cardboard pie just like the rest of you. It’s just that the whole time I dream of adding hearts of palm, shredded pork, leeks and Portobello mushrooms.

But that’s just me.