by Adam Zuehlke

Photo by Sam Kulla

Have you ever wondered about the history of your favorite meal? Depending on which country that dish comes from, the answer to that question can have a great deal of variation that goes beyond culture and social class. The mentality of resourcefulness can be transformed into elegance if the technique and ingredients are executed properly. Take for example, bouillabaisse: a peasant fish stew originating in southern France by fisherman who wanted to create a meal when they returned to port based around the fresh catch of the day. Since rockfish and shellfish were too bony to sell at market level to the upper-class, they kept the ones that got tangled in the nets and made a delicate fish broth, called fumet, out of seafood that had great aromatic flavor which was overlooked by the wealthy- a true secret that was cherished by the fisherman.

However, the momentum of a great idea has a force that can’t be stopped and it never remains a secret for too long. Once chefs got knowledge of what these fisherman were doing they began adding nicer ingredients to their mirepoix & bouquet garni like fennel, leeks and saffron. After a short while the humble notoriety of bouillabaisse found it’s way to Paris and the rest of the world. Brazil has muqueca, Italian fisherman who settled in California created their own version called cioppino consisting of a tomato, garlic & white wine broth. The cultural diffusion of food alone is fascinating, it is tough to tell which ideas are shared and which are innately developed with geography. Describing all the variations of bouillabaisse is like telling a myth that changes as you move through countries, the foundation will always be there but the details will change in parallel fashion to the environment. So Beyond the fisherman in Marseille, the reader may ask, “How far back does the history of this dish go?”

6000 B.C., more or less when the Phocaeans founded Marseille. I enjoy pondering ideas that are this old because you know the shared innovation was slower but more direct. Indirect diffusion is exponentially growing at a fast rate in the 21st century. An idea in earlier civilization may have taken a century to reach the whole world, now ideas and the media can be transparent on the world wide web and accessible in a matter of days to minutes.

Just over a century ago, concepts and trans-cultural diffusion were carried in the minds of men & women on ships bringing innovation (sometimes good, sometimes evil) to a new part of the world. Tradition can be lost through inferiority and sometimes two cultures can each take something which is ordinary, put them together and make something extraordinary. No better tale explains this than the Bahn Mi, which tells the story of French Colonialism in Vietnam all wrapped up into one sandwich. When you take the baguette and tradition of charcuterie you get two important components of French cuisine. Mix with the tropical ingredients of Indochina like cilantro, cucumbers, jalapenos, pickled carrots (daikon) and even bean sprouts to create the perfect accompaniment for the best sandwich on the face of the planet…or at least in the top three.

So what (the reader may ask) is the most amazing detail about it? No cheese! Sure, cheese is a big part of French culture but any type of cheese would not do well in the sweltering heat of that country. This sandwich is undoubtedly Vietnamese.

Every signature dish has the history of people behind it. Gary Kerr calls this the Anthropology of food. Whenever I travel somewhere new I seem to discover the cultural highlights in the cuisine that is more blue collar and overlooked. For example, anyone who has been to “real Mexico” (beyond Cancun & Mazatlan) will tell you that the best tacos are eaten while standing because they come from a street vendor. This is why food blogs have become so popular; cooking equals cultural preservation. It is easy for things to become homogenized in a globalized world. The realization has set in that the source of where something comes from can’t be replaced by the digital age of computers. We simply share our experiences with others hoping they will discover the authenticity of a place by actually going there. I can re-create a bouillabaisse but will I have the patience of a French fisherman who is hungry after a long day out at sea? Everything will be slightly different from the seafood down to the butter I use. I can make pretty good corn tortilla double wrap tacos, but my hands don’t have the 20 plus years experience of a Mexican woman I adore named Emilia: she has lived in Patzcuaro her whole life. The food we make tells the story of our lives: the success and failures, the ingredients we have and the friends who were there for the experience.

photo by Silvio Padron

Eating your favorite food has a theatrical quality similar to sex (this is no secret, hence the endless metaphors throughout time), it’s visceral with sensation & brings you somewhere in the present moment that is also linked to your memory of the past. I challenge everyone to come forward & tell the story of their favorite food. At least it’s not as tawdry as talking about your sex life.

Adam Zuehlke sent this report from the Mysterium in Northeast Minneapolis.