We have lots of ways to trigger memories—photos, visit old haunts, conversations with siblings and friends, journals, and such.
Another powerful method is engaging our senses. All five matter, but today we focus on Bite #24, “That’s Good,” in my book, Eating an Elephant: Write Your Life One Bite at a Time, which explores how food can pull us back to earlier moments.
Regional and childhood foods carry memory. Flavors don’t just make our mouths water; they bring faces, kitchens, and stories with them.
Both loved and hated foods hold strong associations.
Now, tell us what foods take you back to your past? Which bites, good or bad, still transport you? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.
But always remember: The only way to do this wrong is to not do it at all!
Food memories. I’ll try anything. As a kid I tried foods specifically to torture my mom. I got the best reactions from frog legs and calamari. She watched me intently while I ate, screwing up her face with each bite. I loved to eat those lemon quarters that came with fish dinners, biting in like an apple to see her scrunch up her face.
I am posting an excerpt from my memoir Kike in the Snow: The True Cost of Belonging. Unlike you, who grew up in America, I did not have a dislike for any food. Food was scarce in the Soviet Union, and we did not have a choice. In this scene from a carnival, I give you a glimpse of happiness—a day I spent with Papa and the treats he bought me. It was a rare occasion because we could not go to carnivals at a whim. They came into town when the government told them to. So, here I go:… Read more »
I can imagine that taste in my mouth, Etya! as well as your great appreciation of the experience. Lovely writing.
The dish I remember from childhood is city chicken made with pork,veal, or chicken, egg and cracker crumbed, then covered with a cream sauce. The meat is put on little skewers and baked in the oven or fried. They were delicious. I used to help my mom with cooking and baking when I was a child.
Apparently, it’s a Depression era dish which makes sense, as my mom grew up during the Depression. I had never made it as an adult, but got the recipe recently from my sister, made it and liked it. Tasty.
That sounds interesting, Nancy,
Thanks.
I had written a poem of sorts called “I Remember” which spoke of the memories I recalled when I put Hershey’s Chocolate syrup on vanilla ice cream. Back when I was a child, Mom would slice a pint of ice cream into five thin slices, one for each member of our family. Then we’d squeeze the syrup over that slice. It was heaven. Today, some seventy years later upon pouring that syrup over ice cream from a half-gallon container, it tastes just as good as I remember. Just thinking about it, I think I’ll have some for dessert tonight.
Sounds wonderful, Judy. I might try it too.
For most of my childhood, I was the only sibling living with my parents. In contrast, one of my dad’s sisters, who lived in Watertown, a city in upstate New York, had eight children. Watertown was a long way from the many places I lived as a child. But when my dad drove us there for a holiday, I got to see what it was like to be in a full house. I got to eat in the noisy kitchen with all those cousins talking at once, while the adults were behind the swinging door that led to the quiet… Read more »
I always envied large families. My family was small. I did not have any cousins on my father’s side. His sister was childless, and on my mom’s side, her half-brother had two daughters who lived on the other side of the Soviet Union from where we lived. I never had a chance to meet them, and only recently, one of the remaining sisters found me on FB. We connected, and a few years ago, her daughter came to visit me from Germany.
Etya, I’m glad technology has allowed you to reconnect with your cousin and her daughter and start a relationship. I don’t think I envied large families as much as I was fascinated by them.
I also envied my friends who had grandparents. I did not have any. They died during World War II.