I think a lot about food—and not just because I seem to be perpetually hungry. I even earned the trail name “Snickers” because I get hangry when backpacking and let my energy drop too low. (Though I learned my lesson to pack plenty of food before submitting Mt. Whitney a few years ago.) Truly, many of my best memories revolve around food: cooking around a campfire, picnicking before a play, or sharing a slice of pie are fantastic reasons to bring people together. Other unpleasant, yet still distinct memories occurred around a table. This post shares some vignettes about food and people.
Food Brings Us Together
Over several months this year I experienced the joy of reconnecting with old friends and forging new friendships over meals. As we conclude the holiday season at the close of a year of change, I am extremely grateful that they welcomed me into (or back into) their lives.
Recently, one of these friends hosted a dinner party where we watched the film Babett’s Feast — which spoke to me deeply. There are several films which I enjoy (Indiana Jones, Goonies, Hail Ceasar!), but a select few truly made me think or surface deep emotion. Prior to this film, the last film which punched me in the gut was The Whale. The exploration and search for truth within life brought me to tears at the end.
Babette’s Feast spoke to me in a similarly visceral manner. In a humble, isolated village, the community had to confront the disconnect between their physical and spiritual desires after a servant wins the lottery and prepares a lavish feast as a thank you to the community. I won’t spoil the film, but do watch it and ponder about the choices we make and the selfishness (or selflessness) of our actions. I definitely thought about my own starvations and craving for human connection after isolating myself for a bit.
Food Divides Us
Thanksgiving traditionally brings our family together, but this year we spent the day apart. Usually, my parents, sister, and I gather for an early meal followed by board games and pumpkin squares. This year, there were only 3 of us while the other spent the day elsewhere. A growing rift between two people and the unwillingness for one person to apologize to the wronged party for months makes me fear this gathering will never happen again. Despite my best efforts to build a bridge, I’ve learned two things. First, the messenger really does get shot. Two, “love means never having to say you’re sorry” is the dumbest line ever to come from a Hollywood movie.
When I was not yet a teenager, I was somewhat of a brat about being a picky eater. I used to refuse to eat some of the food placed in front of me by Grandmother because I didn’t like the various combinations of leftover meatloaf. She was a child of the Great Depression and attempted to instill healthy values of gratefulness and appreciation for any food. Years later, I took her lessons to heart.
After high school, I took my first “real” job as an assistant editor at an independent film studio in Los Angeles. When I told my dad I would take the job, he partially flipped the kitchen table and broke a few dishes. He was furious that I was doing a film job and feared this would lead me away from studying engineering in college. I took the job anyway and continued to study engineering. Thus, a years-long internal struggle over my professional journey escalated around a sacred ritual: breaking bread around a table. I ultimately found the necessary internal motivation to finish undergraduate engineering studies, launch a professional career, return to graduate school, and then try my hand at a startup. I just needed to grow and do it my way.
Roughly 7 years ago, someone very close to me was diagnosed with arthritis at a young age. Instead of getting on medication, they ignored their doctor’s advice and listened to a controlling family member who insisted a vegan diet would cure the disease. For 3 painful years, they suffered without medication to try to reverse chronic diseases through diet alone. Ultimately, this approach failed and the lack of medication for so long destroyed their joints. Food alone cannot heal us and too many people follow veganism because they are desperate for some way to regain control over their lives (or are pressured into doing so for one reason or another).
Yet, in many ways, we have no control over what we eat; we simply must consume what we can afford to buy or what is put in front of us. Supermarkets often give the illusion of choice and not everyone can afford to purchase the trendy, organic offerings. While working at an agricultural robotics startup, I saw the labor that went into growing, harvesting, and shipping the food. I pondered the lopsided nature of the whole supply chain and how our social economic status determines what we eat.
A Crowded Table
Ultimately, we all need to eat and we all need good people in our lives. And I, too, need to finish writing and move on to find something else to nourish my soul. So I’ll close this rambling post by quoting a refrain from one of my favorite country music singers:
I want a house with a crowded table,
The Highwoman (Brandi Carlile, et. al.)
And a place by the fire for everyone.
Let us take on the world while we’re young and able,
And bring us back together when the day is done.
I am so ready to welcome more people around my table and campfire in 2026.