Taste: My Life Through Food

by Stanley Tucci

This is a bit of a bugbear of mine. Whether it is an actor, a chef or a cook, I think you can always tell when someone isn’t really tasting something. You don’t even have to look that closely to see that this happens too often on the excessive number of cooking shows that inundate today’s television. It seems that before whatever is being eaten has touched the tongue of the chef/host/cook, they are rolling their eyes in ecstasy, moaning and shaking their heads as if it’s the most delicious thing ever to have crossed their lips. To make matters worse, before they have even finished swallowing, the word ‘perfect’ is sanctimoniously whispered. All I can say is, no. No. Sorry. I don’t believe you. There is no possible way that you are actually tasting whatever you ate that quickly and that whatever the hell you made is actually that extraordinary. And who the fuck ever, even brilliant chefs, makes something that is ‘perfect’ right out of the gate every time? More often than not, there is something not quite right. It’s too sweet, or not sweet enough, or needs more salt or pepper or oil, or there’s too much … whatever! To see someone adjust seasoning or comment on what has worked or doesn’t work in a dish is a thousand times more interesting and instructive than their giving themselves a clearly false pat on the back for their culinary genius.

It is this interaction between customer and purveyor that then makes our connection to whatever it is we are buying stronger. To me, eating well is not just about what tastes good but about the connections that are made through the food itself. I am hardly saying anything new by stating that our links to what we eat have practically disappeared beneath sheets of plastic wrap. But what are also disappearing are the wonderful, vital human connections we’re able to make when we buy something we love to eat from someone who loves to sell it, who bought it from someone who loves to grow, catch, or raise it. Whether we know it or not, great comfort is found in these relationships, and they are very much a part of what solidifies a community.