Food and religion go together. The work of Mythologist Joseph Campbell connected our earliest religious experiences with our food, and he has a point. His "Power of Myth" conversation with Bill Moyers, entitled, "The First Storytellers," highlights the connection of tribal peoples with their food.
As cuisine in the industrial West becomes more obsessed with presentation, sauces and new combinations, one may do well by looking at food through the eyes of a woman or man in a primary culture. Cultures that relied more on vegetation had myths that connected them to the plants they gathered or grew. Hunting cultures' mythological companions were the very animals that they hunted. The sacrifice of the animals' lives allowed the people to live. And the people were grateful.
The meat aisle at the supermarket presents "dressed" meats for our delectation. Their colors are uniform; any unexpected color is quickly dismissed as unhealthy. The colors that we expect also tend to be somewhat unnatural, derived from a certain type of feed, or even dyes. The original animal, whose life has probably been uninteresting (to the animal) and devoid of much natural behavior, is lost to the consumer. And, heaven save the butcher if the "cut" we desire is not in stock! But, never is there any sense of gratitude to that original animal, who was barely an animal at all, always just a food product.
Now, MFoD, being a city dweller, is not in the least suggesting that we all invest in arrows, spear, poisons, and go out to catch out own food. She is merely pointing out that there is a sense of alienation between industrialized people and there foodstuffs. We tend not to realize that an animal has had its life taken, rather than being allowed to give it up. The tribal peoples know the difference, and revere it.
What's for dinner? Culture. Enjoy it!
As cuisine in the industrial West becomes more obsessed with presentation, sauces and new combinations, one may do well by looking at food through the eyes of a woman or man in a primary culture. Cultures that relied more on vegetation had myths that connected them to the plants they gathered or grew. Hunting cultures' mythological companions were the very animals that they hunted. The sacrifice of the animals' lives allowed the people to live. And the people were grateful.
The meat aisle at the supermarket presents "dressed" meats for our delectation. Their colors are uniform; any unexpected color is quickly dismissed as unhealthy. The colors that we expect also tend to be somewhat unnatural, derived from a certain type of feed, or even dyes. The original animal, whose life has probably been uninteresting (to the animal) and devoid of much natural behavior, is lost to the consumer. And, heaven save the butcher if the "cut" we desire is not in stock! But, never is there any sense of gratitude to that original animal, who was barely an animal at all, always just a food product.
Now, MFoD, being a city dweller, is not in the least suggesting that we all invest in arrows, spear, poisons, and go out to catch out own food. She is merely pointing out that there is a sense of alienation between industrialized people and there foodstuffs. We tend not to realize that an animal has had its life taken, rather than being allowed to give it up. The tribal peoples know the difference, and revere it.
What's for dinner? Culture. Enjoy it!
Image courtesy of the North American Bison Cooperative
1 comment:
Once again, MFoD hits the salient point: the distance between things in their "raw, red in tooth and claw" state and the prettified illusion of the "cooked, processed and preferred." In my own world of fragrance, I love it when an animalic note vaunts forth from amidst the florals. It puts everything in a context and makes the hidden relation a ritual occasion. Good posting.
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