It’s sweets like this that experienced food writers don’t tell their readers about. Food writing can often be about maintaining an illusion of sophistimication. Food writing is about presenting a unified front against Pot Noodles and processed foods. Unfortunately, despite the 3000 cookbooks on the shelf telling me that every meal should be made from scratch from ingredients I’ve picked from my own garden just this morning, despite television chefs rightfully trying to ensure that school dinners be healthier, despite politicians cynically taxing foods that make us fat to pay for health care for the obese (while simultaneously denying specific procedures such as hip replacement for the overweight), despite my own tirades against processed foods on this blog in the past, my taste-buds still crave something that is NOT. GOOD. FOR.YOU.
I might be a little ornery because I’ve drinking Huel meal replacement shakes for lunch and they make me sad, but the benefits physically seem to be outweighing the emotional destitution I feel.
I want a big slice of cornflake tart for the same reason that everybody wants roast dinners or shepherds pie or banana split: tradition, comfort and nostalgia. To me these things share equally with taste in our enjoyment of food. That’s why people say, “just like mom used to make.” That’s why people eat foods that remind them of childhood. That’s why you’ll never stop people eating roast dinners or craving school dinner pizza and why I’ll always get a second slice of this sticky, nostalgic cornflake tart next time I pass by the kitchen.
Maybe this is down to our instinct for genetic survival; an innate desire to
remain close to those who share our DNA, protect the pack, and ensure mutual longevity. Food was certainly the first concern of our primitive ancestors and it’s not surprising that it still brings the pack together.
has an amazing quote from a past newsletter of his (linked here), that discusses the important of ancestral eating (note: not vegan friendly).“Eating is a ritual that connects us to the Earth and our distant memories, making every meal and calorie a conscious act in the modern world”
Whilst my cornflake tart won’t connect me or anyone to our ancient ancestors, the idea of continuing the emotional threads of our past through cooking is compelling, and less about physical nourishment, and more about feeding our inner child.