Tasting Religion

    In the piece that we read from Rachel Fulton, “The Flavor of God in the Monastic West,” her discussion of people’s fear of using taste in learning about history was engaging to me, particularly because it seemed to echo the sentiments of other authors we’ve read, where they talked about the stereotypically “lower” senses of smell, taste, and touch. Taste is so personal and different from other senses because you have to be so physically close to whatever you’re tasting, i.e. putting it in your mouth. I also really liked how Fulton brought up the corporeal and spiritual divide and emphasized that it was more complex than a binary distinction between the body and the soul. Throughout the piece, she repeated this view and connected it with the importance of both taste and presentation of food in the Middle Ages. Clearly, these aspects of cooking/eating are still significant today, like in the coloring of food to make it seem more like its flavor (e.g. mint ice cream). Thinking about the presentation of food is interesting because it can make so much of a difference in how the food is perceived. At a fancy restaurant, meals are often displayed thoughtfully and beautifully to add to the dining experience. Of course taste is also essential, but I think the combination of taste, texture, and presentation are key in making food successfully, at least in terms of serving it to others.

    In Fulton’s argument regarding the “sweetness of God,” I saw a connection to the Song of Songs because of its vivid descriptions of scent, which is another important part of how foods taste. The association of sweetness with God made sense to me, considering that sweetness is often related to moral goodness and admiration. Also, because sugar/carbohydrates are necessary for sustaining us and keeping us alive, it seems that a comparison between sugar/sweetness and God is apt, where God is seen as guiding people through life and providing for them. After reading Ben’s blog post, I agree that too much sweetness can be nauseating, though. This poses an interesting question; can God be too “sweet”? Does the sweetness of the Lord rely on a balance of some kind, between too sweet and not sweet enough?