For me, there’s probably no line in recent cinema history that anchors food in cinema better than this one crooned by Capo Peter Clemenza in “The Godfather.” (Was it “Godfather I” or “Godfather II”?) The imagery of balancing the importance of leaving the weapon where it’s handy, yet coming home without forgetting dessert, pretty much nailed it for me. Italian dark humor.
Remember how Clemenza gave away the secrets for making basic red sauce? Because he added sugar in the end, it took second to the prison dinner-making scene in Martin Scorsese’s “Goodfellas.” That’s the film in which the mobsters shaved garlic paper thin with a razor blade so it would melt in the olive oil surface of the sauce pan. I learned a good trick with that one. Start out with the best ingredients and you can turn out a great sauce just about anywhere.
Usually I pay attention to the food scenes in movies. Within these are revealed emotion, pathos, and foreshadowing. No matter the language or the culture, food can be the vehicle that moves the action.
Consider the Hmong food served in Gran Torino. Remember the scene in which the crusty Anglo played by Clint Eastwood begins to understand and build trust with the Asians next door after he samples a spread of food he’s never experienced?
The sensual Danish drama “Babette’s Feast” nearly 30 years after its release still speaks to man’s constant struggle between self denial and gratification. Babette’s final gift to her friends demonstrates how love is shown through sacrifice, cooking and serving.
I wasn’t crazy about “Julie and Julia,” but what memories it brought back to me! Did my mother know I would eventually find great satisfaction in cooking and writing about food when she gave me a first edition of Mastering the Art of French Cooking? I was 12 years old. She was the one with so much curiosity about French cuisine, not me.
Still, I liked “Chocolat,” set in a tiny French village in the 1960s. It’s the story of an outcast chocolatier who uses her gifts to forge friendships among unlikely town characters.
“Eat Drink Man Woman” is the story of a repressed Taiwanese man who tries to unite his daughters through a Sunday dinner ritual. Sad story. It could have been the tale of another immigrant family I know whose only bond is the food they eat over the holidays.
“Ratatouille” might be the whimsical children’s adventure today, but Roald Dahl’s classic “Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” paved the way. Consider the many lessons and themes kids learned by viewing that endearing classic.
A smile is the universal greeting, but food and more specifically eating is the universal act that crosses all cultures and unites people when words can’t.
