I don't know what's going on lately.
Food is a basic necessity of life.
You starve, you die.
But in the past few years food has become an art form for some and an obsession for others. I'm not saying Julie Powell, author of last year's Julie & Julia, is totally to blame. In 2003 the movie Under the Tuscan Sun made people rush out to buy or borrow Frances Mayes' book, thinking it was a cozy tale of a plucky gal who conquers all while eating a gelati.
Sometimes I wonder why they even bother to buy the movie rights to a book. Frances' best seller was more about food than plumbing.
Spoiler Alert: She wasn't a single woman who totally pulled up stakes and plopped herself down in Tuscany. Oh, no. The villa was basically her summer cottage, if you please. Her day job was teaching creative writing at San Francisco State University, along with writing books and articles.
She'd written a college text book.
That's better than an RRSP.
Frances' book had Tuscan recipes which inspired readers to suck up lots of olive oil, wine and garlic, all the while thinking it would turn their lives into a Fellini movie.
I don't have any problem with Italian food. I never met a noodle I didn't like.
But reading about how Frances would spend a morning searching for the perfect peach for the perfect meal... I mean... give me a break.
If one wants to spend a vacation in a produce market, I say sure, it's your holiday. But in a regular day to day, 9 to 5 life, it just doesn't work.
There's more to life than The Perfect Peach.
Why is food becoming such a hassle?