Food Noise
Music to my tastebuds
Hello & welcome to a newsletter that indulges in the sweet, savory sounds of food.
Today I’ll talk about—
Experiencing ‘food noise’ means you’re a normal human.
Krinkle Cut Dill Pickle Chips are just as delightful to say as they are to eat.
Why wouldn’t we want to dip strawberries in whipped sour cream?
Do you remember last year when the idea of “food noise” emerged? It’s described as an almost constant internal chatter/thought/desire about food. For example, imagine you’re trying to work, but you keep thinking about the sandwich you made yourself for lunch and you just remembered you packed the Kettle Brand Krinkle Cut Dill Pickle chips and oh my god isn’t that the best flavor of chips on the market right now?
We’re motivated to stay alive and therefore have an inclination to think about the thing which keeps us alive. Kate Manne wrote this article which says having food noise probably means you’re hungry or you’re dreaming about those sick ass dill pickle chips, and that’s fine. Food is a constant need, no matter the century or millennia, achieved in different ways as a result of an evolving species. Food’s basic function remains the same but expands its meaning through iteration and experimentation, reflecting ourselves through an accumulation of time. Diet culture says food is for survival, not for enjoyment. In reality, it’s both.
I’ve always been hyper vigilant in silencing my food noise. For a period of time I excelled at putting it on mute and amplified the voice that said things like, No you can’t eat breakfast or lunch, don’t forget to weigh your dinner, you’re craving a snack because you’re weak, stop thinking about dill pickle chips, a moment on the lips forever on the hips, etc. (I realize there are those who experience “food noise” due to a more complicated relationship with eating which is not something I wish to make light of and certainly don’t think my personal approach to subverting this term is a solution to those experiences.)
Lately I’ve come to realize that food isn’t the enemy, in fact it’s a way to be in tune with an appreciation of the time we’re given. Putting effort, expertise, creativity and caring into something that only lasts moments is, to me, profound. It’s precious because the next meal is never guaranteed. We can control the dish in the moment, to be in service of its preparation, but once it’s consumed our control is relinquished and we can only hope that those receiving it will feel a comfort that reaches through time. It’s taken me a while to understand that my own food noise isn’t chaotic sound ruling my behavior, it’s music that I enjoy listening to, creating new recipes and melodies in my head. Food noise exists and this is how it sounds to me.
In this corner of the Internet every week I’ll share a dish I’ve made plus a side of inner-chatter. I’ll play my food noise for you and I would love to listen to yours too.
This week the dish that got stuck in my head was strawberries and cream, a classic treat.
I found these sweet little babies at the farmer’s market and luckily I always keep heavy whipping cream and sour cream in the fridge (because I’m older and wiser). I was originally just going to dip the strawberries in sour cream, but then lightning struck, whipped heavy cream and sour cream—OF COURSE!
I’m still learning that measuring ingredients is important when sharing a recipe, so this is all based on estimates.
Ingredients:
heavy whipping cream (~.5 cup)
FULL FAT sour cream (~2 tbsp, more if you want it more TaNgY)
vanilla bean paste (1 tsp, though honestly it could have been more. As Erin McDowell says, vanilla measurement comes from the heart.)
salt (teensy pinch)
simple syrup (~.5 tbsp)
Method:
Add the heavy cream, vanilla bean paste & salt in a bowl
Whip the heavy cream (I’m a little insane and prefer to manually whip the cream even though I have a stand mixer. It feels easier/less prep & clean up until I’m about halfway through and my shoulder is on fire.)
When the cream starts to get thicker and a little sturdier, add the syrup
Continue whipping until it forms stiff peaks. This time I took it a little further than I usually would because I thought the sour cream might weigh down or deflate the bubbles so I wanted there to be some leeway
Fold in the sour cream
To serve, put the cream in a cute vessel or leave it in the mixing bowl, sprinkle some flakey salt on top and go to town