A People and their Cuisine (part 1 of 3)

For the next few blogs, at the risk of reinforcing a few stereotypes, we’re going to explore some cultural parallels in cuisine, wine, and dance.  Whether the latter are a result of the former, or if the former is influenced by the latter, we’ll leave that to the sociologists (or whoever researches that sort of thing).  We just think it’s cool to think of how those things a culture has most proudly developed are often a reflection of that culture, and in fact I think it’s the search of those interesting connections that keeps people who are addicted to travel (like us) going out for more.

When it comes to food, there seems to be a basic and obvious correlation rooted in geography: a people’s cuisine is going to be based on the food they have on hand, right?  But does that in turn affect that people’s culture?  We are what we eat, after all.

For example, French cuisine is complex (or at least it certainly seems that way to us when we try a French recipe).  Similarly, French people often seem complex: contemplative, aloof, extroverts buried deep in introvert’s bodies–and begging to be revealed.  And believe me, we make this observation with tremendous love for all things French: unlike most Americans, we’ve found Parisians incredibly warm, hospitable, and (yes, even) friendly.

Italian cuisine, on the other hand, is simple and fresh.  We’ve found Italian people to have a wonderfully simple perspective on life that starts with a passion for that which delights us as humans: love, wine, family, fun, leisure.

We can’t help but mention our perspective on English cuisine.  We disagree with the masses who speak unfavorably of British cooking: what’s not to like of bangers and mash, fish and chips, and a London broil?  Not to mention ale, cider, and scumpy.  Like their tea, we find English cooking practical and proper: an apt description of the English people in anyone’s book.

Can similar parallels be said of a people and their wine?