Going to Market

For anyone who has ever experienced the chaos at large-scale outdoor markets, such as Pike Place in Seattle, they have witnessed the power that food, a simple life-necessity, has to bring people together. Crowded walkways, buzzing voices, and flavorful wafts of diverse treats are what the market experience is all about. Its about people-watching, food-scouting, and life-enriching.  

Walking along the crowded sidewalks of Pike Place is a uniquely invigorating experience, as it combines both the social and dietary aspects of living. Food is an amazing substance, as it has the power to attract a large-scale audience. Bursting with fresh produce, coffee shops, bakeries, seafood cafes, florists, ethnic delicacies, and a picturesque view of Puget Sound, the outdoor market on Pike Place is a place for tourists and locals alike. With so much to see and taste, the market is vibrant with energy from both the sellers and passer-byes.  

There are two simple realizations one makes when at a market of this caliber. One, food is magnetic. It attracts people from all over with its enticing flavors and textures. However, it can also repel depending on how different personal senses receive the food and its atmosphere.  For example, this can be the case for many when they walk past the raw seafood booth of the market. Two, food is abundant, at least to those who have the means of accessing it. That is the ironic thing. There is more than enough food being produced on this planet to feed all of its inhabitants. However, instead our world is coincidently battling both obesity and starvation. Why is it that here is Seattle we have an abundant cornucopia of fresh, healthy food but in places such as Sub-Saharan Africa, food is a scarcity and in overwhelmingly-high demand?

Economics, agricultural opportunities, and social structure all play intricate roles in creating this abrupt clashing of circumstances. But at the same time, with all of the advancements made in agricultural technology by developing nations, why are food products not being distributed in an equal manner to all of the world’s people? Obviously, none of these questions are meant to be answered or should have an answer at this stage in our society's development.  Strolling the streets of the luscious Seattle downtown area just gave me a little food for thought...

Photo Credit: http://www.law.seattleu.edu/llsa/nllsac/pike_place_market.jpg

Lunch Boxes

As a kid, my favorite lunch box was a rectangular blue plastic Lion King-themed container, complete with a matching thermos. I thought it was pretty amazing, as the front of it sported a picture of Timon and Pumbaa dancing along to “Hakuna Matata.” But the best part about my lunch box was what lay beneath the cool blue exterior.  Every day of kindergarten around 12 o’clock noon, I would sit down with my fellow classmates and open my lunchbox. It was an exciting moment, one looked forward to by all. The food inside was always a surprise, my mom liked it that way, something to keep me on my feet. She loved packing my lunch and would make it special each day. There would always be a main course, which was usually a sandwich (peanut butter and jelly!) or leftovers from the previous night’s dinner. To keep things healthy, Mom would always be sure to include a piece of fruit and some sort of vegetable. I always ate these first, as they were my least favorite part. And of course, I saved the best for last.  When I was younger, my mom would make a fresh batch of cookies at least once a week. And each week they would be different, as she loved experimenting with different ingredients and combinations. One thing remained consistent, and that was that they always included chocolate in some shape or form. That part I was definitely a fan of. So, every day I would excitedly search through my blue box, intent on discovering the unique sweet of the day. I would just look at it as I ate the rest of my lunch. The cookie was always my incentive to finish the other more mundane food.

Lunchtime has remained fairly consistent throughout my lifetime. The noontime meal would almost always consist of a lunchbox or brown paper bag packed by Mom, lovely food, good friends, silly conversations, and sometimes even a surprise note written on a napkin.

A couple days ago, however, I discovered a new type of of lunchbox, the Japanese obento. After reading an article on the subject, I quickly discovered that the tradition of this Japanese lunchbox was much different from my own lunch-bringing experiences. Instead of being a common, everyday, laid-back procedure as lunch-packing and eating were for me growing up; this Japanese style is completely different. Perfection and aesthetics are key ideas involved with the obento-making process. Most Japanese mothers spend up to 45 minutes per night creating small, compartmentalized, edible works of art for their children to consume at nursery school the next day. "Eaten quickly in its entirety by the student, the obento must be fashioned by the mother so as to expedite this chore for the child.  Both mother and child are being watched, judged, and constructed; and it is only through their joint effort that the goal can be accomplished" (Allison 195).  The reason for this vast amount of time and effort on the mother’s part is because she is being judged by the school-teachers through the obento she makes for her child. Her child is then also judged on whether he or she can consume the obento in a timely fashion, which is also another reflection on the mother’s abilities to create appetizing food.

Growing up, I never experienced this kind of intense pressure regarding something as ordinary as a school-lunch. In kindergarten, I remember the teachers encouraging the children to finish all of their food, but it still was never a big deal if something was thrown away or remained uneaten.

I was lucky enough to experience this culture first-hand and create my own bento for another girl in my “Food for Thought” class at the University of Washington. It was a very interesting process, consisting of intricate slicing, rice ball-making, and creative presentation. After about forty minutes of hard work and a bit of frustration, I had finished my smiley-face obento. Taking part in this lunch-creating process myself really allowed me to realize what Japanese mothers went through every night, as well as how obviously important it was to their reputation to produce a product that was socially acceptable. I also came to the conclusion that lunchtime in Japanese versus American nursery schools are extremely different operations.

First Thoughts

Thinking about food always makes me happy, as well as hungry of course. This feeling of happiness comes from the pleasure that tasting delicious foods bring. Not only does food satisfy your taste buds, but it is also always a pleasant subject to discuss with other people.  Everyone eats, and everyone enjoys good food. When I think of good food, it is not just the food substance itself that comes to mind, but also the environment in which the food exisits. People, places, sounds, smells, and thoughts always accompany food and its existence.  Whether I am at a family gathering, out to lunch with my friends, or flying solo, each time I sit down for a meal or grab a snack it is always a new experience both for my taste buds and my mind. Not only does food satify hunger, but the need for adventure as well. There is so much to discover within the genre of food, as it is endless with possibilities for creativity and new experiences. 

Having recently just moved to Seattle from Northern California, I am excited to explore all of the unique food and drink opportunities this metropolitan setting has to offer.  As a lover of coffee and anything related to bakeries, I cannot wait to get out into the city and taste my way around.  Ethnic food also seems to be quite the buzz around these parts, and I am definitely always up for a bit of culturing.  Food is endless, is common ground, and will surely help acquaint me with my new surroundings.