PLACES, PEOPLE, AND THE TRAVEL INFLUENCER

To The Place I Fell In Love With Food

Design by Eva Castanedo

Food is invariably rooted to place and our taste palates often depend on the atmosphere and surroundings in which we eat – can we agree that a Fanta lemon never quite tastes as good in the UK as it does when sat at the poolside abroad? We asked our contributors to reflect on the places where they first fell in love with food, and there seems to be a common theme here: GRANDPARENTS.

For as long as I can remember during my childhood, every week we would go to my grandparents’ house for a Sunday roast. This was always the highlight of my week, as I got to spend time with all my aunties, uncles, cousins, and my grandparents whilst enjoying the yummiest food. I might be biased but my grandma makes the best food in the whole world, and nobody can convince me otherwise. The aroma of the succulent beef, the taste of the roast potatoes as they enter my mouth, fluffy on t he inside and c rispy on the outside (my favourite), and the ridiculously large homemade Yorkshire puddings were just some of the delights my grandma managed to cook up in the kitchen. And the best bit of all: the mouth-watering apple crumble topped with my grandma’s heavenly custard, the perfect end to a perfect meal. But it wasn’t just the place, my grandparents’ house, that made me fall in love with food, it was the people. Being surrounded by my big, crazy, cheerful but dysfunctional family has always been my happy place. The delicious home-cooked food was just the cherry on top of my joyous childhood filled with love. Food has the power to bring families closer together, in times of celebration and in times of mourning, but it always seems to make everything better. To me, food represents love, and there’s no better memory than those lazy Sundays spent eating my entire body weight in roast dinner.

Words by Ella Collis

My grandparents live deep into the valleys of the Charente, inhabited by sweeping rows of vineyards, allusive wild boar and chateaus that are reminiscent of the picture book pages of Beauty and the Beast. The towns are quaint and peaceful, the weather befits that of the south of France, and each village has a vending machine for fresh bread, seriously! Since the 18th century, the Charente has been praised for its natural beauty, tropical climate, and distribution of liquor. Both Hennesey and Cognac are primarily made in this area – a tour of either of the distilleries will leave you pink in the face with a newfound appreciation for the alcoholmaking process. Festivities take place throughout the year as a display of the symbiotic relationship between the grape harvest and the community in both economic and appreciative manners. Below the age of 16, the legal drinking age, my younger brother and I would go wide-eyed in the Chocolaterie Duceau in Angouleme. Fine treats wrapped in golden paper decorated with dried raspberries and nuts; grandparents know how to spoil you and if I didn’t leave waddling like Augustus Gloop, they simply were not satisfied. Afternoons included a visit to La Tonnellerie restaurant in Chateauneuf next to the river, watching the small boats go by and feasting on local meats and flamiche. Evenings were spent watching the sunset over the hills, eating goat’s cheese and melon salad made by my loving Nana, listening to the crickets, and trying to catch fireflies.

The way food brings people together, creating the best conversations and connections between us is truly magical. For me, the place I fell in love with food was Italy. Now I know this must sound so cheesy that Italy –the home of arguably the best cuisine on the planet –was the place I fell in love with food, but there’s a reason! My family and I had just arrived in Pisa, our last holiday before I went to university, and we were scrolling through Google in search of any restaurant that wasn’t fully booked. I happened to discover allabona, an environmentally friendly Tuscan restaurant – sounds like a dream, right? We were seated outside on the cobbled streets of Pisa and enjoyed what I can only describe as the epitome of charcuterie boards. Various cold meats and cheeses surrounded by warm bread and homemade butter. Love at firstsight. Supplied with paper plates and compostable cutlery that gets recycled by the restaurant, we got stuck right in. Sat round that table we had the best conversation, fuelled by the amazing meal. I’ve always loved mealtimes with my family, but they are just that extra bit more special when we’re on holiday together. No distractions, no worries, nowhere else to be. Just us together, chatting about anything and everything that’s on our minds, often interrupted by fitsof laughter. It’s something I really Iook forward to experiencing again when I’m back from uni –truly wonderful experiences.

Words by Mia Coley

“You’re going to your ba and dada’s tonight.”

This was the sentence that made the school day the longest of the week. When the final bell rang at 3:25 pm the rich scent of coriander and cinnamon snatched me away from the school gates. I was taken over by a trance. I’d dash through my grandparent’s front door, into the kitchen to find o ur glasses for water and my two favourite spoons, the ones with windy swirls along the handle. I would perch at the dinner table beside my brother, eyes beaming, anticipating a buffet of chai, samosas, dhokla, and chicken curry. Each burst of flavour fuelled the eagerness to grab another spoonful and shovel it down me.

“Slow down you pig!” my brother would shout at me. Never, I continued to tear off chunks of roti, plummeting each piece into the thick tomato before devouring each mouthful in one clean bite. And there was so much to accompany the main event! Heaps and heaps of rice, dahl, chutneys, pickles, and poppadom were spread among the table like a banquet for a king. The mighty feast did not budge an inch; it was a continuous conveyer belt of food from ba’s kitchen. The inviting fumes spread across the house like wildfire, gniting a warm sensation inside. Every ingredient included in each dish accounted for care, love, and safety. My ba and dada’s house at breakfast, lunch, and dinner provided a plate of nurture and delicacy. I’ll always remember it as the place I fell in love with food.

Words by Kavita Patel