Everyone is a Foodie

My grandmother Vespo prepared things like snails, cuttlefish, fresh sardines, eel and skate. She also stewed veal shank, tripe and rabbit. Nonny made soups with beans and escarole. She fried sweetbreads.

It was food I learned very early on not to discuss eating with my non-Italian friends.

This was peasant food. It reflected back on my grandparent’s income---which was modest. Such meals also fell outside the mainstream of roast beef, Idaho potatoes and iceberg lettuce—things that most Americans ate.

But the advent of the Food Channel and television shows like Top Chef has shifted American menus.

We considers ourselves as foodies. We use language formerly unfamilar. We speak of the layering of flavors, balance and texture. We notice how well a dish is plated. We critique pairings. We describe seasonings as briny or acidic or smokey.

We embrace all proteins and vegetables outside of the mainstream and wear our willingness to try new things as a badge of courage. We have James Beard award winning palates. All that peasant food I told no one I consumed on a regular basis when I was young is now the signature dish on the menus of the very best restaurants in Manhattan.

 And it is expensive—way too expensive for peasants.

Which gives me pause to think—what do  immigrant  Americans with a limited income eat? Because it certainly isn’t ossobucco or escargot. It isn’t arugula or radicchio either. People of modest means can’t afford olive oil or fresh basil or balsamic vinegar---things my grandparents ate with regularity. Maybe there is no such thing as peasant food anymore. Perhaps the new peasant food is  pot roast with Franco American brown gravy and iceburg lettuce with Wishbone dressing or Swanson’s chicken pot pies—the stuff my American friends thought was gourmet.