- I had reems of quotes written out in my notes, when I was done.
- I remember very specific parts of it: Often at very odd times, and, also often, bizarrely out of context.
Case in point, my brain’s insistence on reminding me that “Love can and does enter through the mouth,” and the inappropriate giggles that sometimes causes. Case in point, part two: As a person with Long Covid, who still sometimes battles the parosmia & accompanying eating difficulties it causes, I find myself often reflecting on Tucci’s battle with oral cancer, when the side effects of his treatments made eating either impossible or entirely unfulfilling. He often had mouth sores, and his sense of taste and smell were absent for a long while; He continues to have issues with swallowing, sometimes, even now, I saw he mentioned while doing press for his CNN show Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy. With either issue, the enjoyment of food can get lost, and I am always so glad for his recuperation & the return of his tastebuds, because food really matters to Stanley Tucci, and to have lost the ability to enjoy it, permanently, would have been tragic for him.
I’ve chosen to write about this painfully ironic experience, because my illness and brutal side effects of treatment caused me to realize that food was not just a huge part of my life: It basically was my life. Food, at once grounded me and took me to other places. It comforted me and challenged me. It was part of the fabric that made-up my creative self and my domestic self. It allowed me to express my love for the people I love and make connections with new people I might come to love.
Food not only feeds me, it enriches me, all of me, mind, body, and soul.
It is no more than everything:
Cook. Smell. Taste. Eat. Drink. Share. Repeat as necessary.
While I understand that Tucci has deliberately set it up this way, in both Taste & What I Ate in One Year, the presence & importance of food is central. Which is not to say that he neglects to write vividly about all of his other passions – His parents, his wife, his children, his job, his friends, travel – but that his pathway to connection with all of those other passions often revolves around food. This is true, to some extent, for all/most of us, I’m sure: Pre-pandemic, almost all of my family get-togethers involved food, and I’m sure most of yours did too. But, while the menu might have been a bone of contention or a moment of specific pride (making a not-just-edible-but-actually-delicious gluten & dairy free blueberry pie for my sister one year, leaps to mind), for us, the food was mostly a bystander, a happenstance, a side benefit to our gatherings. Not so for Tucci, who seems almost evangelistic in devotion to food, and the experiences it can facilitate.
“It allows for free personal expression like painting, musical composition or writing and yet fulfils a most practical need: the need to eat. Edible art. What could be better?”
“Home-cooked food strengthens our bonds when we are together, keeps us connected when we are apart, and sustains the memory of us when we have passed away.”
“The third is that we die and find that death is a table resplendently set with an extraordinary meal for us and all those we’ve ever loved to share for the rest of eternity”
Both books are also peppered through with the occasional recipe, which is a slight drawback to the audiobook versions, but most were easily found online, in that case. And you can check out the author’s Instagram for some videos of same, besides. Taste is definitely the more traditional memoir of the two – including his childhood, the lives of his parents, his early working years, his first marriage & his grief following her death, his current wife, his children, etc.- while What I Ate in One Year sticks more to a diary format & more current reflections, but both are hugely enjoyable, and highly recommended.