People have been discussing gender differences in comfort food for a few years now. From the four-year-old article “Gender preferences in ‘comfort’ food stem from childhood“:
“Comfort foods are foods whose consumption evoke a psychologically pleasurable state for a person,” reported Brian Wansink, an Illinois marketing professor who heads the lab. Drawing from national survey questionnaires, the lab has concluded that a person’s comfort-food preferences are formed at an early age and are triggered, in addition to hunger, by conditioned associations and gender differences.
Men, for example, find comfort in foods associated with meals prepared by their mothers (mashed potatoes, pasta, meat, and soup) rather than from snacks and sweets (excepting ice cream).
But what is comfort for men is work for women. “Because adult females are not generally accustomed to having hot food prepared for them and as children saw the female as the primary food preparer, they tend to gain psychological comfort from less labor-intensive foods such as chocolate, candy and ice cream,” Wansink said. Indeed, one study found that 92 percent of self-reported “chocolate addicts” were female.
This seems like an interesting theory, but really. How long does it take to boil water? Is it really all that complicated to make a simple, greasy pasta dish? In one pot no less? That you can eat out of with a fork? Maybe I’m not the right person to judge. If I can make it and get away with only washing two things, I consider it as easy as opening a bottle of wine and a bar of chocolate. Not that this explains why I sometimes just open up a bottle of wine and a bar of chocolate.
So is it really as simple as childhood patterns? Let’s examine mine. My maternal grandmother, Hellie, grew up in the Philippines. Her father was a local politician and his legacy (he died when she was two) was a household staff that ensured that my grandmother never set one foot in the kitchen, and a house in a country so wholly caught between the US and Japan during World War II that my grandmother slept in the same bed as her mother well into adulthood. This also meant that when my grandfather brought her and my aunt back to the States from the Philippines, his mother had to teach her how to cook and use a vacuum. I’ve yet to see her vacuum and her idea of an amuse bouche is a snack-sized piece of candy (awesome when you’re five).
Since her mother didn’t cook or clean, my mother decided she had to pick up the slack somewhere. She’ll scrub a kitchen floor with a toothbrush on her way out the door, but this is her idea of cooking:
A “little help” is an understatement for what my mother needs in the kitchen. Every spice in their kitchen cabinet that doesn’t materialize whenever I visit dates back at least as far as Abilene, Texas. I know because it’s a store generic brand.
The reality is, my father was the primary food preparer. I wouldn’t put him on par with my paternal uncle, who is amazing in the kitchen, but he was the king of shake ‘n bake chicken and chops, fajitas and mushed up. Perhaps therein lies the source of my gender confusion. I’ve been making variations of vegan “tuna” helper (and that should be with peas, not broccoli blasphemers) since the day I became vegan. I suppose this means, that like the boys, I like what comfort Mom was doling out. And, like the boys, I must not have viewed it as work. The power of advertising!
This is where I should hand out a recipe for Untuna Unhelpful Casserole (because it really is more work than opening up a can and a box), but my “recipe” for that is far less honed than that of anything else I cook. I really do just throw things in a pot, stir like mad, season and hope to get some fatty comfort.
Tofu Paprikas and Roasted Cauliflower
My interest in slightly fatty, although mostly creamy, pasta-based comfort food is what made me interested in making Isa’s Tofu Paprikas. Normally, my comfort food isn’t hot as the Ninth Circle of Hell, but I thought I’d give it a try anyway. I added some mushrooms, partially because I do try to mind my soy intake (I know of no scientific basis for this, but I’m terrified of developing more food allergies), but also because I used a chunk of the block for a scramble and didn’t want another 4/5 of a package floating around. I was glad I made the roasted cauliflower to along with it, because I used all three tablespoons of paprika and my Hungarian hot is clearly fresh and hot. So, even though it’s not much of a recipe and there are no precise ingredients, I give to you some balance for the spice:
Roasted Cauliflower (Serves 3 – Probably 4 but I can’t make it last)
1 head of cauliflower cut into bite sized pieces
Olive oil
Nutritional yeast
Garlic powder or 2-4 cloves of crushed garlic (depends on how lazy you feel that night)
Sliced almonds
Salt
* Preheat oven to 350. Toss cauliflower in large baking dish with a generous amount of olive oil and a reasonable amount of nutritional yeast, sliced almonds and salt. If you have bread crumbs on hand, add those, too. Bake for one hour, turning once. Essentially, you want the cauliflower to get good and caramelized.
And later today (or tomorrow perhaps), I’ll show you a bit of what’s cooking in the fermentation department.
November 7, 2007 at 9:56 pm
Gah! You’re going to tempt me with the potential of a vegan gluten-free untuna helper without even hinting at what you put in it? I’m guessing peas and pasta, but what else? I would guess mashed chick peas, nootch, soy milk and a ton of margarine?
November 7, 2007 at 10:27 pm
And salt and pepper! It’s super imprecise! I should assign the recipe to myself for next week’s task. I would love for other folk to dig in it and play around a bit. I think of it as a “reminiscent of” dish as opposed to “tastes like.” I like to add a little dulse sometimes, too, although the “fishy” flavor does not have to be so pronounced in untuna helper.