An Ode to Comfort Food
Having lived in Rome prior to moving to Florence, I find it rather difficult to stray away from some of the “comfort dishes” that I enjoyed throughout my college days. I used to live atop one of Rome’s most renowned trattorie, Da Ivo a Trastevere. There is no fonder and more pathetic memory I have of college than watching soccer matches in my pajamas on Sunday afternoons while nursing a hangover and enjoying a pizza from Ivo in the comfort of my living room. I would usually order a capricciosa with two eggs. In Rome, the good places usually make a capricciosa with prosciutto crudo instead of prosciutto cotto and crack an egg on the pizza right before sliding it into the oven (instead of just toping it with a boring hard boiled egg at the end). Having a wood brick oven cooked egg sitting atop a foundation of steaming mozzarella, tomato sauce, mushrooms, artichokes, prosciutto and olives all being held together by a base of dough so thin and crispy still provokes a tear to this day. Right around the third and fourth slice I would eventually get a little careless and a concoction of egg yoke, tomato sauce, mozzarella and whatever other juices began maneuver its way around the slice I was gently cradling in my hand (that had cramped into the form of a claw at this point) and would proceed to drip down my sleeve. The circus of flavors celebrating on my palate would eventually overpower the wretched lingering aftertaste of stale Peroni beer from the night before.
Any self proclaimed “foodie” will stubbornly admit that those meals that trigger the fondest of recollections are not always those consumed in high-end eateries. In its purest from, food is meant to nourish and sustain the body. If it happens to induce notions of satisfaction, all the better. This is why we form emotional attachments and detachments with certain foods from such a young age. Phobias towards foods that we program ourselves into believing usually formulate due to a negative experience long ago. The smell, texture, or even sight of a certain food can instantly trigger one’s stomach to quiver. On the other hand, pleasant memories related to a particular food will grant it classification as somewhat of a “comfort food” for the person. Simple dishes prepared by one’s mother with a simple twist or extra ingredient will very well set the foundation for an individual’s relationship towards eating for a lifetime. We are feeble humans and creatures of habit. In light of all this, I encourage all our readers to revel in the fact that it is still winter and to cozy up with your own personal “comfort dish” while watching a favorite television show or movie. After all, you won’t be able to use the excuse come spring and summer.