For Gordon and For Faith
Taste
is often seen as lesser sense, especially concerning religion. There is less
revelation in taste, sublime experiences are seen, not tasted. This view of
taste means that its importance to religious practices and bonding are easily
overlooked. Taste subtly brings people together by sharing meals and cooking
together. This sense is the foundation of bonding by being a daily activity.
People need to eat multiple times a day every day in order to survive. This
provides ample amounts of time to connect with one another while cooking and
eating. Day by day, small conversations that slowly build into something
greater.
Spaghetti |
In her
experience with Afro-Cuban religious practices in Chicago detailed in her book,
Religion in the Kitchen: Cooking, Talking, and the making of Black Atlantic Traditions, Elizabeth Perez noted the general unwillingness many
of the converts initially had about joining the community. The people Perez met
were not to the community but rather wound up there in some way and hesitatingly
participated. The commitment came later, after all the cooking together, the
long hours in the kitchen, those seemingly meaningless and forgettable moments.
Perez even said that people would “stay after developing a sense of solidarity
with, and investment in the community” (Perez 100). The converts only converted
when they had already felt attached to the community, they did not seek out the
experience.
The Golden Arches |
Perez’s
experience illustrates how cooking and eating bring people together, how taste
connects us. We eat with our friends and our families. How often do we have
meals with strangers? Personally, I do not sit next to someone I never met at
McDonalds if an open table is available. In fact, the idea seems invasive,
rude, even unnatural. Taste is a shared experience, one that requires a previously
established bond. It largely goes unnoticed; we tend not to think about the
particulars of why we eat with who we do.
Taste is
a vitally important sense to forging bonds with other people and religion, but
it largely overlooked. Perez emphasizes in her book that these cooking “micro-practices
[allow the religious experience] to coalesce and endure” (212). Taste may not
have clearly distinguishable sublime moments such as sight, however taste is
the foundation of the faith for that sublime experience. Without taste, without
cooking together, without sharing a meal together, that sense of community,
that attachment only these experiences can provide is lost.
Are you sure that you need to already have a bond with somebody in order for a meal with them to be meaningful? Can you not "break bread" with people to develop relationships? I'm not suggesting walking up to somebody random in McDonald's, but what about having Thanksgiving dinner at a friend's house and dining with all of their family that you have yet to meet? *mic drop*
ReplyDeleteAnd it seems that the cooking in Lucumi is like preparing food for old friends, not strangers, namely the deities, the orishas, with whom the initiates develop a long relationship of with them, learning just what they like, and how to prepare for them. Sure they're connecting with other human worshippers, but is there something particularly powerful about "playing house with the gods" (a term BTW that Diana Eck use to describe puja, Hindu worship of gods in iages) in such a material, kitchen-y way?
ReplyDelete