Dinner As I Remember (continued)

I previously posted a reflection on the experimental art film “Dinner As I Remember” by Francis Almendárez. The film was more of a series of photos with the creator reflecting on his Caribbean heritage and the importance of food within his family. He briefly touched upon the subject of eating with your hands, and how his grandma went against the custom of using utensils and claimed eating with your bare hands makes food taste better. He explained that his mother now does the same, but previously no one else followed her example. In middle-eastern cultures, eating with your hands is normal while eating with utensils can be seen as “pretentious”. Authentic middle-eastern restaurants are typically packed with diners using their hands, I often have to request a few more spoons because they leave a few on the table for serving or soup.

I appreciated the candid photos the filmmaker used, I felt as though I were standing in a bustling kitchen with the oven’s gentle breath warming the apples of my cheeks, and hear the food sizzling on heavy cooking ware as children scrambled about. A scene that drew my eye was of a woman standing over a burning pit (also a common form of cooking in Arab culture, and it’s still in use among some Arab-American communities) with a wooden spoon and what appears to be a doughy mixture in a large pan. Cooking is more than a necessity, it’s an experience.

The scene reminded me of my childhood home in California and my grandmother aggressively stirring Aseed, a Yemeni dumpling soup, with a wooden spoon (or stick, I suppose). It’s a bit surreal to think these moments are of an ordinary day to me, a concept the filmmaker also brought up. I remember sometimes wishing my home was a little more like my American friends who had easy, mess free dinners of mac and cheese or pizza, which no Arab will ever acknowledge as real food. I am foolish for ever having questioned the labor, love, and respect towards cooking my ethnic culture embraces. That being said, I have a stack of assignments to finish, so I will be making baba ganoush (from grilled eggplants, of course) and scarfing it down with pita bread I made a few days ago. I can hear my grandmother’s disapproval of eating a “snack” for dinner. Oh, the audacity.