Food in fiction by Mohit Ahuja

I have always been a fan of fiction – from early childhood to the present, I read whatever I can get my hands on. And somehow, I have always been fascinated by how so many authors talk so eloquently and passionately about food, even when the same is not key to the plot they have had undertaken for the respective book. 

Of course, for most of us Enid Blyton will always be the one who put entire pictures of food – right from breakfast to high teas that her characters always have. In all of her 21 Famous Five books (which I was hooked on), food that those English kids enjoyed was described in great detail. Who can forget that for most of us, it was the first introduction of that food – be it bacon (I was not vegan or vegetarian then), scones, jam tarts or even ginger beer. In fact, in one book, she proclaims through the voice of a motherly character that bacon and eggs make the best breakfast in the World!

Things are not bad in the adult world too. Joanne Harris’s first few books, Chocolat’, Blueberry wine and Five quarters of the orange, were more or less entirely based on food. In fact, the first one mentioned was a true delight (not that the others are not) and even had a film based on it. From what I remember, it was about the Church turning against the sweet sins of chocolate. 

Closer home, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni wrote the Mistress of Spices, almost entirely based on the magic of Indian spices brought alive on the silver screen too.

Even Alexander McCall Smith in his No. 1 Ladies Detective agency series, always talks of the protagonist and her love for food and describes in depth the preparation of even simple recipes. 

Of-course it helps that both Joanne Harris and McCall Smith, are prolific food-writers as well.

I have read little of Haruki Murakami (maybe 4 or 5 of his works), but in most of them, he explains the process of the protagonist putting his (mostly male and alone) meal together in great detail. It’s almost his protagonists’ ‘me-time’, a time meant to break away from whatever troubles he or she is going through, a time for talking to the self.

I also cannot fail to mention the anecdotal style of columnist Samar Halarnkar in Mint Lounge where he picks up a story thread and ends with a recipe. But he is mostly a meat lover (unlike his wife and columnist Priya Ramani, who has often talked about her own vegetarianism) so I tend to avoid the recipe itself. 

I guess what people really love makes it into what they write, even when it does not need to. One can’t really hide what one truly loves. And there is no greater love than the one for food.