... a self-consciously pretentious American's take on American consumption...

Do you like good food, literature, film and music? Let's connect!

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Food Hangover

Last night, Dozen Bake Shop in Lawrenceville hosted a summer cupcake party to release their new flavors. I had the opportunity to taste a lemon basil cupcake that brilliantly fuses together savory saltiness with sweet. Like the current flavor, salted caramel, I am glad to see the salted flavors are continuing with a margarita, salt lined cupcake. I was also excited to see lavendar being used for the passion fruit lavendar cupcake, a refreshing change for the summer. As I navigated through the cupcake towers, filled with a whopping 2000 cupcakes, flavors such as Apple Pie à la mode, Chocolate Chai, Lemon Merengue and Key Lime Pie were tempting. The most intriguing flavor was Twinkilicious, a white cake batter with topping identical to that of the consistency of actual Twinkees (mouth-coating, bland yet subtly sweet). After doing research on Twinkee culture, I'm interested to discover more about this particular flavor and the inspiration behind replication of this petroleum derived product.

I am really intrigued by Dozen not just for their delicious products such as pot pie infused with rosemary, empanadas, cinnamon buns with inch-thick cream cheese icing and the life-altering lavendar waffles with lemon curd. This notion of blurring the lines between savory and sweet complicates my notion of what makes a meal. For me, a meal includes the equation of one savory plus one sweet- for instance, breakfast equals a cinnamon bun (sweet) and a latte (savory). If I apply this reasoning of consumption to Dozen's cupcakes- one lemon basil (savory) and one banana butterscotch cupcake (sweet) makes a meal. Of course this is not a healthy nor sustainable way to eat, but I really appreciate the fact that Dozen challenges and expands my taste buds with such tongue twisters.

Dozen also strives toward the local. The shop's website (http://www.dozenbakeshop.com/html/about.html) includes a list of local suppliers including Penn's Corner Farm Alliance, Grow Pittsburgh, and Turner Dairy Farms, Inc. The shop was listed in Pittsburgh Magazine last year for their noble sustainability efforts.

The night did not end after the cupcake party, as my fellow foodie friend Jenn and I went to the "Waffle Shop, A Reality Show" in East Liberty, located between Ava and Shadow Lounge. The view from the outside is initially peculiar. Looking in through the open view windows surrounding the shop, there is a bar and tables with a talk show stage set up towards the back. On the prominent blue wall in lighting that reminds me of a circus ride, hails customers and potential talk show guests: WAFFLES. After walking in we were cordially greeted by multiple waiters, as well as the shop's manager, Dawn. The shop's website (Waffleshop.org) offers the most succinct explanation of this unique space:

...a neighborhood restaurant that produces and broadcasts a live-streaming talk show with its customers, operates a changable storytelling billboard on its roof, and runs a take out window that sells food from countries engaged in conflict with the U.S. The shop is a public experiment that brings together people from all walks of life to engage in dialogue and the co-production of culture.

Ultimately, the waffles are bait to get people in to talk. The take out window, Conflict Kitchen, is a connected project, as next door they will be selling kafta (lean beef heavily spiced with basil and other ingredients- try it at Aladdin's, too) wrapped in homemade bread wrapped in information about Iran. The layers in which this project operates is so interesting, combining local initiatives and dialogue with international awareness.

The waffles in themselves are completely tempting, as we had the options to choose between the traditional buttermilk, mint blueberry and coconut chicken curry waffles. The food aspect of the shop indeed operates in a (relatively) local-focused paradigm, as they are in partnership with Whole Foods Market. Jenn and I opted to share a mint blueberry waffle, as we were operating on cupcake overload. The tasty concoction had fresh blueberries in the batter, with vanilla bean ice cream on top, and a sprig of fresh mint. Pairing this along with great conversation and talk show entertainment, I will definitely be returning after having something savory to counteract this sugar shock.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Gooey. Butter. Cake...

...are three of the best words a Paula Deen admirer could want to hear. While travelling to St. Louis this past week to present in the Sigma Tau Delta, International English Honor Society conference, I had the opportunity to peruse the food scene around the Arch. After visiting the Culinaria Schnuck's market I learned that Gooey Butter Cake is the favored dessert of the region. The delightful treat is the consistency of a lemon or lime bar- substitute the lemon or lime flavor with butter. Underneath lies a thick graham crackery crust, making for a heavy combination. A small slice goes a long way.

I was also surprised to learn that St. Louis is renowned for the quality of Italian food (which will be an interesting comparison to the food I will be experiencing in Rome this May!). The Hill is characterized as a mostly Italian-American population in St. Louis, reflecting that of the Bloomfield "Little Italy" of Pittsburgh. Italians, prominently immigrated and settled in the area during the late 19th century, drawn to jobs in nearby plants developed to mine deposits of clay discovered in the 1830s. My regular spot in St. Louis was an Italian restaurant, Calico's, where I enjoyed delicious catfish, as well as toasted ravioli which was deep fried and served with marinara sauce. While at the Arch, there was a general store that sold delectable praline cremes, peanut brittle, and of course, in the mecca of Mark Twain enthusiasts, Huckleberry lozenges. I offered the Huckleberry lozenges as part of a presentation for my American Exploration class in which I explored the use of food as a signifier for regional identity in Mary Austin's "Stories from the Country of Lost Borders."

Regionality is such an interesting component of food studies that I am drawn to repeatedly. The vigor with which Austin considers both the Shoshone use of landscape and the society of the California's "Little Town of the Grapevines" emphasizes American identity as multi-faceted and confused. Austin takes on this characterization not with anxiety, but with a profound sense of wonder, experiencing within the natural and socially constructed landscapes Emerson’s “transcendental eyeball” moment repeatedly. She writes of her new found landscape, the California desert. For as regionally-focused as Austin is, the food reiterates a diverse American identity. In turn, food functions as a conduit of memory and history for American explorers to the west as well as the means for survival on the cultivated frontier. Reading this text during my own travels to "The Gateway of the West" resonated with my understanding of a new place in terms of food.

Throughout "Stories from the Country of Lost Borders," Austin pieces together sensory experience in meticulous ethnographic style. In terms of the Shoshone tribe, analysis of food reveals a reciprocal balance between men and women, as Winnenap, the medicine-man first teaches her of the many available nourishments of the landscape. The first focus on food for survival is explored in terms of the Shoshone Land as:

Desert Indians all eat chuck-wallas, big black and white lizards that have delicate white flesh savored like chicken. Both the Shoshones and the coyotes are fond of the flesh of Gopherus agassizii, the turtle that by feeding on buds, going without drink, and burrowing in the sand through the winter, contrives to live a known period of twenty-five years (Austin 59).

Here, Austin explores the landscape in terms of the food it provides. She does not express any disgust with eating either the chuck-walla or turtle, and offers pertinent information on the lives of the animals themselves, reiterating her profound reverence of the natural landscape and its inhabitants. Furthermore, she considers the flora of the landscape in terms of consumption: “It seems that most seeds are foodful in the arid regions, most berries edible, and many shrubs good for firewood with the sap in them” (Austin 59). Once again we are exposed to the specificities of the region in terms of her scavenging experience. Austin offers a how-to guide of living within the rugged landscape while maintaining a poetic, Transcendental tone. Most notably Austin finds her stride in explaining the many uses of the mesquite bean:

…whether the screw or straight pod, pounded to a meal, boiled to a kind of mush, and dried in cakes, sulphur-colored and needing an axe to cut it, is an excellent food for long journeys. Fermented in water with wild honey and the honeycomb, it makes a pleasant, mildly intoxicating drink (Austin 59).

While Austin does not offer an explanation on the specifics of cooking chuck-walla or turtle, here there are multiple possibilities for using the regionally grown mesquite beans. Interestingly, this one product can be used to make many products for survival, from solid meals to sustaining liquor. She learns many of these food preparations from the Shoshone Indians, yet there are other aspects of her experience that relate to food. Women become the primary focus of food preparation during her time with the Shoshones. During the day, Austin notices “These are working hours, and all across the mesa one sees the women whisking seeds of chia into their spoon-shaped baskets, these emptied again into the huge conical carriers, supported on the shoulders by a leather band about the forehead” (Austin 88-89). In contrast to the previous information given by Winnenap, the women here work with the raw materials to create edibles for the tribe.

Austin spends Fourth of July in El Pueblo de Las Uvas, known as “The Little Town of the Grape Vines.” In contrast to the Shoshone use of the land, here Austin finds agricultural constructs that contribute to the community’s consumption. The domesticated means of producing food are quite different compared to the Shoshone’s. Consider her description of food ritual:

Every house in the town of the vines has its garden plot, corn and brown beans and a row of peppers reddening in the sun; and in damp borders of the irrigating ditches clumps of yerba santa, horehound, catnip, and spikenard, wholesome herbs and curative, but if no peppers then nothing at all. You will have for a holiday dinner, in Las Uvas, soup with meat balls and childe in it, chicken with chile, rice with childe, fried beans with more childe, enchilada, which is corn cake with a sauce of chile and tomatoes, onion, grated cheese, and olives and for a relish chile tepines passed about in a dish, all of which is comfortable and corrective to the stomach. You will have wine which every man makes for himself, of good body and inimitable bouquet, and sweets that are not nearly so nice as they look (Austin 145).

Once again, Austin reveals an overwhelming sensory experience in terms of the consumption of grown products. There is a catalogue list of supplies here, reflecting the cataloguing Thoreau partakes in for preparations to Walden pond. The chiles overwhelm this section, being included in every dish and reflecting the regional taste. Furthermore, food focalizes community tradition, as holiday dinners include specific dishes and drinks depending on what successfully grows. While seemingly a minor point, these meals are noted as being “passed about in a dish” which reflects the settled nature of the landscape. This is an established community that has effectively domesticated surroundings to its anthropocentric use. Just as Austin explains her liking for the Shoshone recipes, she also finds that these dishes are “comfortable and corrective to the stomach” that reflects her own comfort in the region.

Food focalizes on ritual, as Austin notes in “The Little Town of Grape Vines.” She identifies and clings to familiarity in this sense, while also meticulously noting the regional specificity. A meal becomes a signifier of time:

There are two occasions when you may count on that kind of a meal; always on the Sixteenth of September, and on the two- yearly visits of Father Shannon. It is absurd, of course, that El Pueblo de Las Uvas should have an Irish priest, but Black Rock, Minto, Jimville, and all that country round do not find it so (Austin 145).

Here, occasions give rise to food, in terms of the same times of year. Interestingly, the inclusion of Father Shannon reiterates the diversity of people exploring the western frontier. Austin notes that he is indeed Irish, yet another transplant on the landscape just like her. This transplantation is not viewed as strange or absurd because so many of the settlers experienced the same uprooted experience. Tasting rejuvenating fresh-picked grapes and chili peppers were comparatively remedial for Austin as the gooey butter cake was for me.

Monday, March 15, 2010

Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate!

After trekking out to Eden Hall farm, our group was welcomed with a tasty chocolate drink made with chocolate, milk and...what could that familiar yet distant taste be...chili pepper! I have tasted this type of drink before, particularly at Mon Amie chocolatier in the Strip District, yet this cold drink had a completely different taste from the hot drink I have had. Chocolate has served many purposes throughout history, from cacao seeds being used as a bitter chocolate beverage in ancient Mesopotamia in social and religious practices, to use as a form of Aztec money in trading practices, to various god sacrifices in ceremonies. (See my earlier discussion of John Lloyd Stephens’ and his interactions with chocolate in the Yucatan, Mocha and Mozart). At Chatham’s recent chocolate tasting event at Eden Hall farm, Emily Stone presented various chocolate producer’s takes on maintaining a local focus. Today in American consumer culture, Hershey’s Chocolate World characters become a focal point of worship, selling “1.377 billion compared to 1.342 billion in 2007” (http://www.csnews.com/csn/cat_management/confections/article_display.jsp?vnu_content_id=1003935034&imw=Y). That, is a lot of cacao seeds.

While many chocolate making companies are distinctly American such as Ghirardelli and Hershey, there are a large selection of small chocolate producers. We were able to taste chocolate from a few. My particular favorite was from John and Kira’s chocolate http://www.johnandkiras.com/s.nl/sc.1/.f?gclid=CKP-sJfroaACFQli2godIHOnYg&partner=johnandkira%27s. They produce chocolate based on local components, such as their spearmint chocolate is made with spearmint grown by a local elementary school in Philadelphia. This is their way of compensating for having to buy the cacao seeds from no further than 20 degrees away from the equator. The honey lavender ladybug was my absolute favorite. Biting into the beautiful yellow treat reminded me of gardening at home in the summer, picking lavender for a table decoration, or putting the oil into lemonade. We also tried unconched chocolate from the Grenada chocolate company http://www.grenadachocolate.com/. Conching is a European method of chocolate making that determines the smoothness of the product. A conche is a container filled with metal beads that grinds the chocolate that creates frictional heat to further break down the particles so it becomes smooth. The uneven and gritty texture of the Grenada chocolate combined with the spiciness of added chili pepper was entirely and entirely refreshing experience and offered a completely new take on chocolate for me.

Like the wine tasting, this Eden Hall farm excursion was sweet and enlightening!

Irish potatoes, Italian spaghetti, Polish Pierogies...

This past weekend included the annual St. Patrick's Day parade in Pittsburgh with fun family time, corned beef, and people throwing up drunk by two in the afternoon. Since childhood, my sisters and I would line up in our A.O.H. (Ancient Order of Hibernians) sweatshirts with our cousins for the parade to begin while surrounding adults would be enjoying an early morning shot of Bailey's or Jameson. Alcohol consumption is inevitably linked to Irish heritage, as any films I've seen about Ireland including "Angela's Ashes," "The Butcher Boy," and "The Wind that Shakes the Barley" along with Flogging Molly's song "F*** you, I'm Drunk" perpetuate this stereotype of the drunken, beligerent Irishman.

Talking about stereotypes is a touchy subject especially for a Cultural Studies major because you cannot deconstruct the stereotype without using the stereotype, which contributes to its furthered circulation. This is a dilemma that I constantly grapple with from analyzing commercials in popular culture and literature. Considering how food can further the construction of stereotypes or engender family heritage in the films "Eat Drink Man Woman" and "Soul Food" is a challenging question. The only productive way I could think of approaching this assignment was to draw from my own experience. Growing up in my paternal grandmother’s kitchen I learned Polish words along with pierogie and haluski recipes. Time spent in my maternal grandmother’s kitchen led to picking up some Italian slang while deciphering the secrets to making spaghetti sauce not too bitter nor too sweet. While it is easy to say that Polish people eat pierogies and Italians eat tomato spaghetti sauce are both stereotypes, there are infinite nuances to the recipes and histories of both, varying from family to family and the unique stories that have instigated these recipes.Films can problematically allow for an understanding that representations of marginalized groups as a monolithic example. Representations can simultaneously perpetuate a stereotype and engender a multi-faceted depiction. In both films we see the endurance of family history, as well as the homogenizing intrusion of consumer culture. There is a delicate balance between presenting one family's story as representative of the entire Japanese or African American experience, as a film can easily be read as an overarching narrative of an entire culture. Of course, this is not true, as reflecting on one's own life and heritage reveals both large cultural connections and unique family traditions.
Stereotypes are a difficult representational system to grapple with because they are indeed homogenizing, yet can signify on truths of an entire culture. For example, throughout history a detrimental representation of African Americans included eating fried chicken and watermelon. African Americans in representation were over problematically eroticized and infantilized through these representations with food. The "mammy" figure is connected to preparing food, as "she is heavyset, dark-skinned, scarf-wearing, and able to cook everything that comes her way- from scratch" (Williams-Forson, P. “Still Dying for Some Soul Food?” 187) In terms of the film "Soul Food" there appears to be a reclamation and renarration of this stereotype, as “African Americans also invented new rituals that combined African harvest celebrations and American agricultural procedures” (Tracy Poe, The Origins of Soul Food in Black Urban Identity: Chicago, 1915-1947.” American Studies International. February 1999, Volume XXXVII No. 1: 11).

This same cycle of reappropriation to create negative stereotypes and reclamation and renarration occurs among all cultures. This past weekend most resonated with me, as I unconsciously and continuously deconstructed the stereotype of the "Irish drunk" with parade goers justifying being drunk before noon because it was St. Patrick's day. It is a stereotype that is marketed to us, just as any other. I can't dismiss it as immoral or wrong, though. I am of Irish heritage and 21 years old, so I partook in the Irish carbombs, being critically aware of the stereotype yet partaking in the consumption.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Happy Friday!

After turning 21 in January, I have indulged in a Friday ritual of trying different alcoholic beverages, from a Mango Margarita at Red Robin to a Purple Haze, fruit and alcohol beer, at Fuel and Fuddle. (Check out these 21 fun drinking rituals from around the world: http://www.sloshspot.com/blog/08-05-2009/21-Drinking-Rituals-From-Around-The-World-199)

As an of-age college student at Chatham University, in a food studies course, I am able to begin my weekend with a (free!) wine tasting! A few Fridays ago, students loaded up the university vans and trekked out to Eden Hall farm to taste various local wines from Heritage Wine Cellars in North East, Pennsylvania.

As my fellow World Ready Women gathered around a table we were already deciding which wines to taste. I am a red wine drinker. White wine is completely unpalatable to me because my oldest sister Sara thought it would be a good idea to mix Minute Maid Pomegranate Blueberry juice into a chardonnay and I got sick from it. Really sick, yuck.

So, our table started off with a bottle of Half and Half, made with half Niagara and half Concord vine grapes. It is essentially half red, half white, but it was an interesting blend that had muted sweet tones with a bitter after bite. The following was more like tasting fruit juice: Raspberry Wine. It is one of their best sellers, as it has a natural berry taste with a tangy finish. The natural taste of raspberry was too sweet for me, as I prefer a Pinor Noir over fruit juice. Next, we tasted a Merlot, a European style dry medium body with a soft finish. More than 3/4 of the table opted not to taste, because the smell was so intensely bitter (and was described by one as an "old man drink"), and the taste indeed matched after tasting a drop.

The next red was a Concord made from Pennsylvania grapes, which was sweet (not to the extent of the Raspberry), with a full bodied fruit flavor. This was my favorite from the tasting because it reminded me so much of my favorite drink, red Sangria. I had tried Heritage's Sangria before, as it's one of my mom's preferred drinks (when we're not at Harris Grill drinking frozen Cosmos lined with Chambord). The red wine and citrus blend is refreshing, yet not the best (If you're looking for an outstanding Sangria in Pittsburgh, try La Casa in Shadyside on Ellsworth- their special ingredient is a cinnamon stick!).

Heritage Wine Cellar is a great example of purchasing local. They have many reasonably priced products: http://www.heritagewine.biz/. Chatham's new food studies program and school of sustainability at Eden Hall farm is looking at more opportunities to purchase local, the next one being chocolate. Until next time, cheers!

Monday, March 1, 2010

Stanko Shoutout

When I was a baby I could not eat. An esophageal constriction led anything that was not thin liquid to go down my throat. The only sustenance I could resort to included banana drinks from Gerber, which to me were “Yogies”. After three operations, the final solution being an inflated balloon pulled through my nose and down the esophagus through a cut in my stomach, I could finally eat and digest food. Since then, my palate has been anything but discriminatory as I love to eat, yet do not take the act or quality of eating for granted.

Although there are many memorable meals that I could write about, the one that comes most vividly to my mind is the late night snacks I would partake in with my brother-in-law Stanko. While my sister Sara was a delicate ballerina who put more lipsticks into the refrigerator than food, Stanko’s appetite was larger than life, reflecting his physically demanding lifestyle as a more athletic dancer. When I was in second grade my younger sisters Kiersten and Lindsay and I would spend a lot of time at their house. Although my sister always made delicious dinners and indulged us with our favorite Kozy Shack rice pudding, by late evening we would always want what Stanko referred to as a snack; me, a fourth meal.

As I would sit at the counter, Stanko would take what seemed like everything out of the fridge to make what he deemed “Bulgarian Burgers.” At the time I assumed it was some sort of special recipe that his mother used to make before he came from Bulgaria; however, now I realize that these were of his own concoction to satiate his enormous appetite. Waiting with a large mixing bowl and wooden spoon in front of me, he piled ground beef, bread crumbs, eggs, three different kinds of cheese, yogurt, sour cream, salt, pepper, any bread, and many other random ingredients next to the bowl. He proceeded to put everything into the bowl, letting me add the salt and pepper mix while he told me about his past experiences at music and dance conservatories in Sofia before coming to Pittsburgh.

After everything was mixed he formed the burgers with the mix oozing out of his enormous hands. At the time they seemed at least ten times bigger than any burger I ate anywhere else. By the time he put them into the pan I would be relaying stories about the day spent at the pool or about piano lessons and which songs I was learning, or about preparing for the next activity at summer recreation camp. Finally, after waiting with a watering mouth we finally finished making the burgers. He would put the patties onto slices of bread, with extra mayonnaise, making three for himself and one for me, cut into fours. It always amazed me that he would be finished with three, with not a trace of drippings left on the plate, before I was messily finished with one, Bulgarian burger dripping down my arms. Even though the burgers were so large I would eat until the scar on my stomach began to pull, as I never let myself get so full with anything else so delicious. We would always finish the meal with a Ferraro Rocher chocolate, my favorite, with Stanko taking a last dip into the rice pudding.

Mocha and Mozart: Anchors of Familiarity

My initial experience with food studies has proved to be overwhelmingly inter-disciplinary. Presenting on John Lloyd Stephens' Incidents of Travel in Central America, Chiapas and the Yucatan allowed me to stretch my connoisseur muscles in terms of food, music and literature. Studying Stephens' work through the prism of "Producing Food, Producing Difference" has proven effective in terms of considering identity through what is consumed.

During my travelling experience in Vienna, Austria I was most interested in visiting the Vienna Opera House and sampling the legendary Sacher torte. While I was extremely excited to inhabit the Mecca of European classical music because I had studied it for years, the Sacher torte was a gastronomically new encounter with its unique flavor and texture. Similar interests are reflected in John Lloyd Stephens’ accounts of traversing the distinctive regions of Central America, Chiapas and the Yucatan. Throughout Incidents Stephens consistently skims over descriptions of indigenous peoples to focalize on religious and governmental institutions as evidenced by one of the first instances in the text: “From the negro school we went to the Grand Court…which stand in the rear of the Government House” (16-17). Stephens’ perception focalizes on the vestiges of colonization because that is where his familiarities lie. Ultimately, music and food become a mediated space where cultural values intersect and reveal the extent to which Stephens allows himself exposure to Central American culture.

While Stephens attempts to find a fellow traveler to Guatemala his anxiety is interrupted by an experience that stimulates all of his senses:

At length all was ready; a large concourse of people, roused by the requisitions of the padre, was at the door, and among them two men with violins. The padre directed his own gigantic energies particularly to the eatables; he had put up chocolate, bread, sausages and fowl; a box of cakes and confectionary (178).

In this instance, Stephens notices and actively records his recollection of two men playing violins. The genre of music is not specified; however, his other senses become intrigued particularly through taste. Chocolate is included not as a luxury but as a necessity throughout the text. In Food: The Key Concepts (2008), Warren Belasco identifies chocolate among “tomatoes, corn, and potatoes” (49) as coming to most of the world only after 1492. Indeed in this text food and music emphasize the effects of colonization. This is the first of many chocolate appearances in the text. Similarly, when he travels to the village of Masagua, Stephens immediately desires chocolate:

At the village of Masagua I rode up to a house, at which I saw a woman under the shed, and, unsaddling my mule, got her to send a man out to cut sacate, and to make me some chocolate. I was so pleased with my independence that I almost resolved to travel altogether by myself(290).

Here, chocolate becomes a signifier of Central American culture that Stephens comes to rely on in the face of the unknown. In this sense it becomes a coping mechanism that allows Stephens to find his stride and confidence as a traveler. Margaret Odrowaz- Sypniewski emphasizes the parallel between money and chocolate as a legitimate coinage: “cacao currency [was used] as late as the mid 19th century in Yucatan, Mexico… [and] The Mayans were reported to have used cacao, as money, in Guatemala too” (Indigenous Americans Their Geneology History and Heraldry, http://www.angelfire.com/mi4/polcrt/Chocolate.html). Stephens constantly seeks institutional structures; in this case market value of chocolate allows him to connect with his capitalistic roots. In contrast, chocolate becomes spiritually significant as at a later time as an unnamed boy “prepared chocolate” (183) for the burial of a young man. Inevitably, chocolate becomes part of a cultural ritual that Stephens observes. While he is not intimately connected with the burial, chocolate engenders a contact zone for Stephens to identify within.

Later on in the text, music is similarly present in San José as a funeral procession “approached with the music of violins and a loud chorus of voices, and was escorting the priest to the house of the dying man” (353). Music becomes yet another facet of ritual in Central American culture. There is a distinction to be made between chocolate and music, as chocolate is indigenous to Central American agriculture, while religious authority and Christianization of the culture is affiliated with music. As chocolate becomes a comforting commodity for Stephens to identify with and consume, music becomes a vestige of American and European culture from which he hails. In this instance music is again conflated with institutional legitimacy, in this case government: “at nine o’clock, with violins playing, and a turnout that would have astonished my city friends, I made another start for the capital” (178-179).

There is a specific date, one of few in the text, which Stephens specifically cites as a particularly uplifting occurrence: January 1, 1840. A Guatemalan cathedral becomes yet another site of familiarity and institutionalization that signifies civilization for Stephens. In this case the space is permeated with Mozart’s music: “Gentlemen well dressed, and ladies in black mantas, were crossing it to attend grand mass in the Cathedral. Mozart’s music swelled through the aisles. A priest in a strange tongue proclaimed morality, religion, and love of country” (307). Just as chocolate embodies a means of communication between cultural differences in the case of mourning for a funeral procession, music remains the signifier that represents institutional authority to which Stephens repeatedly defaults.

To reaffirm the connections made between chocolate and music throughout I would like to look at one more scenario of Stephens’ Incidents:

We returned to our horses, and found Mr. Lawrence and the guide asleep. We woke them, kindled a fire, made chocolate, and descended…The streets were alike, long and straight, and there was nobody in them. We fell into one which seemed to have no end, and at some distance were intercepted by a procession coming down a cross street. It was headed by boys playing on violins; and then came a small barrow tastefully decorated, and strewed with flowers. It was a bier carrying the body of a child to the cemetery (366-367).

Once again in this situation, Stephens encounters a burial procession in which he simultaneously partakes in the consumption of chocolate and music. While music is an omnipresent facet of religious ceremonies in Christianity, chocolate is deeply engrained in the death rituals of Aztec and Mayan cultures as referenced by Odrowaz- Sypniewski: “In the tombs of the Mayans and Aztecs, there were cups that were used for the drinking of chocolate in the afterlife. In their tombs, in glyphs, was written: ‘This is the chocolate drinking cup of ..... (insert the name of the dearly departed’” (Indigenous Americans Their Geneology History and Heraldry, http://www.angelfire.com/mi4/polcrt/Chocolate.html). As we read, it is clear that both music and chocolate become ritualistic presences, offering a more nuanced experience of Central American culture. Previous to this encounter, Stephens, Mr. Lawrence and a travelling doctor were surveying the landscape, applying stagnant and encompassing numbers for exact measurements. The landscape here appears to be bare and flat, as the presence of scent and sound offer another dimension. While there is value in excavation information, the cultural experiences involving interaction offer a different kind of valuable experience. Measurements alienate Stephens from the cultural significance of “Idols” (149) and Central American culture, as the presence of food and music offers his audience more profound insight into new populations and themselves.

From the beginning of the text it is clear that Stephens knows the audience he is writing for. He wants to emphasize the stark differences in values and rituals; yet, it is clear that he consistently seeks cultural familiarities throughout the text. Both chocolate and music are apt symbols as they are consumed throughout his journeys. After tracing two recurring symbols throughout Stephens’ text, I would like everyone to identify other layers of familiarity and why they are focused on. No matter how objective he attempts to be, Stephens’ own anxieties reflect our own, no matter if one is nervous about a language barrier or being immersed in a new cultural ritual. Identifying the familiar is always the first step to understanding difference.

One singular sensation!

This past weekend I had the amazing opportunity to participate in the Pops All Star College Choir with the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra directed by Marvin Hamlisch. Before our Saturday night performance the stage manager came in and told us that Marvin had bought 40 boxes of girl scout cookies from her daughter and decided to share them with the choir.

After parusing the full platters, I realized how much the face of Girl Scout cookies had changed since I had been a Daisy or Brownie. Samoas are now Caramel DeLites, All Abouts are no longer in circulation and there is now a Lemonade cookie. I opted for a Lemon Chalet despite my being thirsty. Just one Lemon Chalet. The next day I found out from my fellow choir member Joyous that there had been a recall issued that same day for what else...the Lemon Chalet!

The Girl Scout cookie is an American institution that prides itself on quality, wholesomeness and good old fashioned hard work. For more than 80 years they have been the number one source of Girl Scout fundraising, causing people to stock up in February and March for the year. The earliest evidence of GS cookie sales was in 1917 with a local mindset of Girl Scouts baking and selling the cookies themselves for 25 to 35 cents per dozen. Consider an original recipe:

An Early Girl Scout Cookie® Recipe
1 cup butter
1 cup sugar plus additional amount for topping (optional)
2 eggs
2 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons baking powder

Cream butter and the cup of sugar; add well-beaten eggs, then milk, vanilla, flour, salt, and baking powder. Refrigerate for at least 1 hour. Roll dough, cut into trefoil shapes, and sprinkle sugar on top, if desired. Bake in a quick oven (375°) for approximately 8 to 10 minutes or until the edges begin to brown. Makes six- to seven-dozen cookies.
(http://www.girlscouts.org/program/gs_cookies/cookie_history/early_years.asp)

Today, there are 11 different varieties of cookies made in ABC Bakers in Richmond, Virginia and Little Brownie Bakers in Louisville, Kentucky. In 2007, an estimated 200 million boxes of GS cookies were sold (This statistic is from Wikipedia and although it is not an esteemed source, it was the only one available to offer the magnitude of this product). According to the Huffington Post, a foul smell and taste plagued the boxes of the Lemon Chalets due to a chemical breakdown of oils. CNN reported that approximately 636,000 boxes were affected. While this is the first major product error in Girl Scout cookies reported, the cookies still remain one American sensation. Thanks, Marvin!

Guilty? Pleasure?

If I told you that this American product was named after shoes...contained petroleum derived products...and was claimed as responsible for driving a man to murder, what would you guess?

Well, it is the Twinkie, that seemingly harmless, cowboy clad, four inch long cake filled with vanilla cream. I shared Twinkies in the class "Producing Food, Producing Difference" as part of a food presentation.

In the 1920s and 30s, Continental Bakeries sold baked snacks under the Hostess brand name. Many of the snacks were seasonal, with fruit filling. Hostess Little Shortbread Fingers were made with strawberries, so for several months of the year the equipment used to make them sat idle because strawberries weren't available. On the way to a marketing meeting in 1930, the company vice president saw a billboard advertising Twinkle-Toe Shoes. This was the conception of what we now know as the Twinkie.

The original recipe from 1930 included basic ingredients like eggs, milk and butter. Other ingredients include bleached wheat flour and sugar derived from sugar cane and sugar beets. The sugar in addition to sweetness, in crystal form, holds air and makes the cake lighter. The combination of sugar and proteins make the cake tender, holds moisture and gives the Twinkie its color. Inevitably the needs for longer shelf life lead to the inclusion of chemical ingredients for preservative purposes. Eight out of the 39 ingredients are derived from corn as corn starch, glucose, fructose and high fructose corn syrup are essential in the Twinkie making process.

Chemical additives to Twinkies include monoglycerides and diglycerides which replace eggs and emulsify the recipe by stabilizing the cake batter, enhancing flavor and shelf life. Only a small amount of egg is used to leaven the cake batter. Polysorbate 60 keeps the cream filling creamy without using real fat. (Fellow classmate Caitlyn Krzywiecki also noted the cream filling was "intense" when tasting it, that it irregularly coated the inside of her mouth) Furthermore, hydrogenated shortening replaces butter. Artificial butter and vanilla are used, disturbingly derived from petroleum. Sorbic acid is used specifically to deter the onset of mold.

Contrary to popular belief and urban myth, a Twinkie's shelf life is officially 25 days and they are not chemically preserved. Replacing eggs, butter and fats is what keeps Twinkies from going rancid and is a much shorter list than other products sold today.

In 1979, accused murderer Dan White from San Francisco claimed the act was brought on by severe depression. Evidence of his depression was provided by White's overblown consumption of junk food, including Twinkies. The "Twinkie Defense" became infamous in popular culture. Also, the T.W.I.N.K.I.E.S. (Test with Inorganic Noxious Kakes in Extreme Situations) Project is a series of experiments conducted during finals week in 1995 at Rice University. Students subjected Twinkies to a battery of scientific tests to determine the electrical resistance, water solubility and whether or not they are sentient. Different forms of Twinkies in circulation today include fried ones at state fairs, wedding cakes comprised entirely of them, Twinkie pie, tiramisu and even sushi (http://www.recipezaar.com/Twinkie-Sushi-120476). By the end of my presentation in class there were two plates still full of the Twinkie appetizer- and I must admit I couldn't eat a bite either.