Food In Art

Here's a painting that hangs in my living room:



An old friend of mine made it for me (and charged a lot less than it is worth). Anyway, I was wondering if others have favorite pieces of art that include food or food references. You don't have to actually own the piece; it's just that in my case, I happen to be the proud owner of my favorite food-inclusive artwork.

Cannot recall the name but I think the piece is by Edward Hopper.The scene of a diner.

Probably you are thinking of "Nighthawks," which currently resides in the Museum of the Art Institute of Chicago. Nighthawks

And yes, I agree; Hopper is one of my favorites. Here's someone who really knew how to paint light. He also did one with some folks eating Chop Suey. I like that one, too: Chop Suey

Great topic!

I have a couple, both of which hang, pedestrianly, in my kitchen.

The first is a World War II victory gardens poster.


The second is a Ken Brown tee-shirt design.

Ann,

I have that Ken Brown t-shirt somewhere in my t-drawer. It's a beauty (I especially like the T-Rexes with the used car lot banners).

Hammond

So to expand the thread outside paintings, watercolors, etc, how about books/music/film?

I'm not talking books by chefs, essays about restaurants or cooking or dining, or dissertations on ingredients.

I like most of those genres, but I'm thinking more specifically about books, songs, movies, poems, and other forms of art that have memorable, if sometimes oblique, references to good eats.

There are the classic and obvious ones of course -- Like Water for Chocolate, Tampopo, etc -- but my personal favorite is the series of Nero Wolfe mysteries. Even though only maybe 1-2% of each book or story mentions what the characters eat, those mentions are memorable: Braised ducklings stuffed with crabmeat, sweetbreads amandine, and lamb kidneys bourguignonne. The characters show the utmost respect and admiration for the food, and to eat less than wonderfully is to suffer a fate worse than death.

It's a great philosophy.

So, what work of art, or pulp, or whatever, makes your mouth water?

I was hoping for more visual food art and will continue to hope for such, but I'll say that my two favorite books, Ulysses (Joyce) and The Magic Mountain (Mann) emphasize the gustatory pleasures of their characters. By the way, the painting in my first post was put together as a collage of various photos I provided the artist, plus his own perversities of the imagination. The foodiness was my idea, as was the guy in the Mexican wrestling mask under arrest in the right midground. A number of other inside jokes and references pervade (e.g., the little girl center foreground is looking at a poster for Terrapin Theatre, which Mrs. JiLS helped found in 1992). In that spirit, I'd like to try to keep this thread very personal.

JimInLoganSquare wrote:I was hoping for more visual food art and will continue to hope for such, but I'll say that my two favorite books, Ulysses (Joyce)

Absolutely. Bloom's penchant for the kidneys (with the "fine tang of faintly scented urine"), his lunch of gorgonzola with the Lestrygonians, and throughout. Even from the start, when stately plump Buck comes down the stairs, he carries an impious sacrament, the primal food of the god.

Hammond

David Hammond wrote:

JimInLoganSquare wrote:I was hoping for more visual food art and will continue to hope for such, but I'll say that my two favorite books, Ulysses (Joyce)

Absolutely. Bloom's penchant for the kidneys (with the "fine tang of faintly scented urine"), his lunch of gorgonzola with the Lestrygonians, and throughout. Even from the start, when stately plump Buck comes down the stairs, he carries an impious sacrament, the primal food of the god.

Hammond

Considering old BuckM. is carrying a plate full of shaving cream (with crossed shaving implements), I'd say he ought to apply for employment at Moto. If not floating, then at least "elevated?" I always identified with Blazes Boylan anyway (but promise you won't ask Mrs. JiLS about that one, won't you?)

Oh, man, where to begin. (Actually I think there are some great anthologies devoted to this theme.)

There are some great passages in early Beckett novels. A wonderful description of eponymous Murphy going to a tea shop and flirting with the waitress. Also a descrption of a character named Belacqua eating rank blue cheese on burned toast in More Pricks Than Kicks. There's also good food stuff in Laurie Colwin's fiction, separate from her non-fiction food writing.

I love the tiny scene in The Freshman where Marlon Brando puts about 8 spoons of sugar in a shot of espresso.

The dinner scene in "Tom Jones," natch. (And its pathetic and witless bastard offspring, the food smearing in "9 1/2 weeks.")

I used to actually keep a file of clipping and references to this sort of thing with a view toward doing a food lit. reading/performance. Don't know where it is now.

In literature, I have always found the passages describing the preparations of meals in the Iliad especially beautiful, in part on account of the restraint and (seemingly) simple grace of the passages and in greater part still on account of the importance of these scenes for the thematic development of the work as a whole.

In cinema, I am struck by the almost de rigueur occurrence of a food related scene in Italian movies, whether the scene be focussed on cooking or on eating. Even in the old 'spaghetti' westerns, there are wonderful scenes of people eating plates of beans with large chunks of bread which are surely not completely inappropriate for a Mexican setting but really evoke for me no less a very southern Italian atmosphere.

Among the best food-related scenes to appear in a movie is to my mind the scene in the Godfather in which Clemenza is preparing a meat sauce. Two further very good food scenes were cut from the final version of the film but can be seen in the Godfather Saga, namely the scene in which Clemenza sort of sneaks off for a meal in a restaurant and the one in which Santino informs his mother that Don Vito has been shot; she's in the kitchen frying peppers at the time.

The eel and fish-related food scenes in the Blechtrommel/Tin Drum, both Grass' book and Schl

And on the subject of Clemenza's fondness for food, the line "Leave the gun; take the cannoli," which I have always thought would look good as an embroidered motto in my kitchen.

Hammond

Having seen "Sideways" last night, this thread just beckoned me! The thrust of the action was from the perspective of an oenophile, and the passion, intensity, and downright lust for wine is so palpable in that film, and just as analogous to any gustatory pursuit. There's a monologue in the film where Miles waxes eloquent about the fragility of the Pinot Noir, and it's ultimately a metaphor for his own existence. Really beautiful scene and phenomenal writing.

Veering off into the land of cinema, I'll nominate God of Cookery (Sik Sen) as one of my favorite food-related pieces of art. If you haven't seen it, go and rent it - very enjoyable.

Not sure if this counts, but I've always loved the back covers of Cooks Illustrated. Very simple, very beautiful, and always very enticing.

was hoping for more visual food art and will continue to hope for such

Reaktion Books recently published Kenneth Bendiner's "Food in Painting," available from the University of Chicago Press, which, incidentally also has books on Mesopotamian (Bottero), Roman (Giacosa and Faas), and medieval (Redon) cuisines.

http://www.press.uchicago.edu/cgi-bin/h ... 158547.ctl

RE Antonius' Iliad ref.:

I can't actually remember any of the particular scenes, but I've always remembered the refrain, "And none was denied his fair portion" which seems to encapsulate the whole idea of the value of civilization, and codes of behavior at a time when the enterprise of civilization was just nascent and its persistence far from assured.

We could all just tear into the meat, taking as much as possible, but we don't, and as a result, none is denied a "fair portion." We take a bit less than perhaps we could get away with, and as a result, everyone prospers. What a concept. Still dicey in many places, but at least it hasn't altogether died out.

Antonius wrote:[P.S. Can someone fix the spacing of the text in this thread? It's too wide for my screen.]

I reduced the size of my picture, which was affecting the spacing of text below it. Presumably everybody already got an eyeful of the full-size version.

And back again to cinema, I've always thought Goodfellas to be one of the finest food scene movies of all time. The scene in the prison where Henry Hill gives a detailed voice over of one of his cellmates method of preparing pasta sauce for the nightly meals ( "He sliced the garlic using a razor blade so it would liquify in the pan. Some guys thought he used too many onions, but it was still a very good sauce" ), while another con prepares a steak, and Fat Paulie tears into a hunk of bread. The scene where the mobsters talk business at a back yard barbecue while rings of sausage sizzle on the grill. Henry's concern about the Sunday dinner he is preparing ( "I bought some nice veal I was going to sautee as an appetizer" ) while dealing with cocaine-induced paranoia over an upcoming drug deal. Food is really an integral part of this movie.

It's also one of the great smoking movies of all time. Man, everybody smokes in that movie.

John,

I totally agree with you on Goodfellas. I watched that film again last week for the upteenth time and I just love the running commentary on food at every turn. Meals and the food in general are always described in such great detail and with such reverence. The scene towards the end where Ray Liotta recites the laundry list of what he's making for dinner and what he has to do that day is one of my absolute favorites.

Speaking of the connection between organized crime and food, Ken Obel of Fox and Obel used to be a lawyer with the Manhattan DA's office. He spent time listening to mafia wire taps, and said that the majority of the time he overheard, not crime planning, but rather recipe swapping and restaurant reviews.

Hi,

There is a lot of interesting details in Goodfellas. What about the excellent service when Ray Liotta and his girlfriend walk into the crowded nightclub. Instant table, instant tablecloth, instant chairs, instant table appointments and instant front row table. I'd like to see that in real life.

I just finished The Time Traveler's Wife by Chicagoan Audrey Niffenegger. It's a fun book anyway, with lots of Chicago food scenes, including one at Katsu's. Beau Thai shows up repeatedly (not a place I know) and Opart Thai as well, plus Margie's Candies, Ann Sathers, etc. Perhaps the best food scene, however, is when our time traveler, knowing his time is almost up, lovingly teaches his wife how to cook.

Here's a brief run-down of the some of the Chicago references in the book, courtesy of Bookpaths.

Bookpath on The Time Traveler's Wife

Cathy,

If you want to see a similar scene in real life, try making reservations at Gibson's or Gene and Georgetti's, and wait at the bar for your table while big shots with no reservations are ushered in and fawned over.

NB: This is not meant to imply that these individuals are connected with organized crime or that these restaurants cater to gangsters. I'm talking more about politicians, sports celebrities, etc., not mobsters. Indeed, given the sorry state of the Chicago Outfit, I suspect that our current crop of wiseguys are lined up at beef stands and sub shops like the rest of us.

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto. The whole book is filled with talk of food (and love and death and transsexual parents), but my favorite scene is when the protagonist undertakes an arduous journey to bring a bowl of take-out katsudon to her grief-stricken friend. Tasting the "flawless, incredibly delicious" katsudon brings him back to the world of the living.

first few pages on Amazon

I think that the connection, real and imagined, between Italian food businesses and organized crime is unfortunate. [Of course, restaurants do make good money-laundering fronts and can be an attractive venue for gambling and other illegal consumer activity. And importers have in the past used their infrastructure to bring in more than bananas. But I wonder whether the use of food businesses by Italian organized crime is any more prevalent than food fronts run by other ethinicities' crime groups].

Back to the theme. My favorite food scenes in literature appear in Confederacy of Dunces, various Hemingway things, and mostly, Gogol:


Reaching the tavern, Chichikov called a halt. His reasons for this were twofold--namely, that he wanted to rest the horses, and that he himself desired some refreshment. In this connection the author feels bound to confess that the appetite and the capacity of such men are greatly to be envied. Of those well-to-do folk of St. Petersburg and Moscow who spend their time in considering what they shall eat on the morrow, and in composing a dinner for the day following, and who never sit down to a meal without first of all injecting a pill and then swallowing oysters and crabs and a quantity of other monsters, while eternally departing for Karlsbad or the Caucasus, the author has but a small opinion. Yes, THEY are not the persons to inspire envy. Rather, it is the folk of the middle classes--folk who at one posthouse call for bacon, and at another for a sucking pig, and at a third for a steak of sturgeon or a baked pudding with onions, and who can sit down to table at any hour, as though they had never had a meal in their lives, and can devour fish of all sorts, and guzzle and chew it with a view to provoking further appetite--these, I say, are the folk who enjoy heaven's most favoured gift. To attain such a celestial condition the great folk of whom I have spoken would sacrifice half their serfs and half their mortgaged and non-mortgaged property, with the foreign and domestic improvements thereon, if thereby they could compass such a stomach as is possessed by the folk of the middle class. But, unfortunately, neither money nor real estate, whether improved or non-improved, can purchase such a stomach.

The little wooden tavern, with its narrow, but hospitable, curtain suspended from a pair of rough-hewn doorposts like old church candlesticks, seemed to invite Chichikov to enter. True, the establishment was only a Russian hut of the ordinary type, but it was a hut of larger dimensions than usual, and had around its windows and gables carved and patterned cornices of bright-coloured wood which threw into relief the darker hue of the walls, and consorted well with the flowered pitchers painted on the shutters.

Ascending the narrow wooden staircase to the upper floor, and arriving upon a broad landing, Chichikov found himself confronted with a creaking door and a stout old woman in a striped print gown. "This way, if you please," she said. Within the apartment designated Chichikov encountered the old friends which one invariably finds in such roadside hostelries--to wit, a heavy samovar, four smooth, bescratched walls of white pine, a three-cornered press with cups and teapots, egg-cups of gilded china standing in front of ikons suspended by blue and red ribands, a cat lately delivered of a family, a mirror which gives one four eyes instead of two and a pancake for a face, and, beside the ikons, some bunches of herbs and carnations of such faded dustiness that, should one attempt to smell them, one is bound to burst out sneezing.

"Have you a sucking-pig?" Chichikov inquired of the landlady as she stood expectantly before him.

"Yes."

"And some horse-radish and sour cream?"

"Yes."

"Then serve them."


Dead Souls

I hope nobody is misconstruing my above posts. I certainly never meant to imply a connection between Italian restaurants and organized crime. As I noted, Italian OC--at least in Chicago--is a much-diminished presence, although other criminals and criminal organization have doubtless filled the breach.

Still, I don't think it is prejudiced, or particularly shocking, to suggest that criminals of certain nationalities will patronize restaurants that cater to that nationality.

As an aside, and completely off the topic of "Food in Art," my dad was once involved with collecting gifts from local merchants to be awarded as prizes at a Knights of Columbus raffle benefitting a children's home. He went to a local bar/restaurant frequented by members of a certain ethnic crime organization (OK--it was an Outfit joint, but bear in mind that this was the near west suburbs in the early 1970s) and asked for a donation of some booze. The owners were remarkably generous--cases of top-shelf scotch, bourbon, gin. What the old man didn't notice until he got home was that none of these bottles had tax stamps on them. So, if you won a bottle of booze at a K of C raffle in Cicero in the 1970s, it was probably from a hijacked shipment.

John, I understood the spirit of your post. The Mafia-food connection has been cultivated by the media, often with great artistic results as documented above. I was just making an observation.

We used to have a wood block print of a tabasco bottle, but the frame broke. We have no other overt food "art" in the bungalow. But on the other hand, nearly our entire living spaces are over-run with food stuff. There are no rooms that do not have a some cookbooks or other food related books in them (including the potties). My idea of coffee table books are mostly vintage food books. We have glassware as statues, tea parahanalia as an acessories, and jars of assorted honey arrayed like cut flowers. So, yes our home is decorated with food.

Rob