Food lust

Do we hunger for our food?

By Ken Swarner on May 1, 2008

Tried spending a night on the phone dirty talking with a plate of risotto?  Ever pick up a bananas Foster in a seedy bar?



Sociologists, historians and anthropologists have long studied the feeding habits of humans, but should psychologists and psychoanalysts do the same?  And if they did, what would they have to say about our current desire for food?



Dr. Kima Cargill, a clinical psychologist and lecturer at the University of Washington Tacoma, recently wrote a paper titled “Desire, Ritual And Cuisine.”  It followed on the heels of her popular UWT class — The Psychology of Food, which she takes on the water next fall for the Semester at Sea program.



In the paper, Cargill indicates our “current lust for food” manifests in many ways, including a proliferation of cooking shows, networks and restaurants, enough food books to choke Martha Stewart, the rise of specialty food stores like designer cupcake shops, and even, yes,  the world domination of Starbucks.



Food lust — cool. 

How do I love thee?

Cargill says we are voracious — a term foodies can get behind.



“As a departure from the 1950s meat and mashed potatoes mentality, we have evolved into an era in which the desire for creative and beautiful food seems insatiable,” she writes.



Why?



Many reasons, Cargill says.  Boiled down, our fast paced lifestyles, consumerism, stress, economic advantages, ritual, and even ethnic prosperity contribute to our desire for food.  As complex animals, we don’t simply eat to stay fueled. That’s a no-brainer.  But do most of us know why we eat what we do when we do? 



That discussion must start in the brain, not mouth.



Cargill says marketers play a major role, creating one more demand we didn’t know we needed filled but now can’t live without. 



“Our whole economy is based on consumer spending,” Cargill says. 



We purchase sushi like we buy iTunes songs; $65 steaks at El Gaucho as if the meat were a BMW; and those convenient, ready-to-eat chicken roasters in the grocery store — they’re like disposable contact lenses.  The United States stays prosperous as long as we continue to buy stuff.



“And food is one of those commodities,” Cargill adds.



Our obsession with food, however, runs deeper than our hunger for more and more things.

We dig food as entertainment, too, Cargill explains.  Where we once grabbed a quick bite before a performance, dinner is now the show. 



We want our restaurants to make us feel as if we’re in another dimension.  We escape into the restaurant world to find a utopia where people bring us what we want and then do the dishes.

Cargill says the ethnic explosion in our country contributes as well; by not building bigger fences on our borders, we’ve allowed undocumented tastes to melt in our pots.  And our desire to understand those new tastes and experiences keeps us lusting for more as those ethnic minorities grow in riches and open more and more restaurants.



We are also searching for a cultural identity, Cargill says. 



Probably because many of us realize that if something is not done, Americans could go down in history solely as the cretins who loved fried Snicker bars, Coney Island hot dogs and McMuffins.

The mama factor

It’s difficult to escape “breasts” in many discussions when psychologists are involved.  The topic formed the entire middle section of Cargill’s paper.



Cargill says whether we had a good or bad experience while breastfeeding as infants may (and she stresses “may”) determine if we have healthy or unhealthy food lust. (Those who had nipple confusion must be screwed).  She points out that food may be the most influential separation from Mommy that we know. 



So does that mean our current food lust is really about wanting to breast-feed with good ol’ Mom?



Cargill laughs.  “I’m not going to say that.”



Cargill does concede, however, that we Americans are the only people on the planet who drink warm milk all day long — think lattes, mochas and chai teas.



“Italians love their lattes too, but they don’t drink them past morning,” she adds. 



So, Starbucks is our wet nurse?



“The mind is so complicated it is easy to lose sight of the forces at work,” Cargill says.  “When we order our latte, are we thinking about breastfeeding? Doubtful.  We just think a latte would sure hit the spot.  It’s comforting.”



Comforting?  Comfort foods?  You get the picture.



As Americans, we stress ourselves out, and we’re not getting any better.  It makes perfect sense that food helps us cope — and if that relates back to Mom, so be it.  What are you going to do?  Get over being cut off from the booby?



“We never get over that,” Cargill laughs.

Cupcake regression

We never get over the foods of our childhoods, either.  Food, according to Cargill, provides a link to our past, gives us meaning in a larger world, holds a place for us at the family table.  We are what we eat in the sense that food traditions make us feel secure and offer a link to our ancestors.



Whether spending the afternoon making lefse, menudo, lumpia or gnocchi — the process connects us to happy times in our childhood watching and smelling as moms or grandmas prepared those family recipes.  It gives our lives added subtext.



Even mac and cheese does that for many of us.  The nostalgia of food runs deep.  Take cupcakes, for example.



“It’s interesting to me how cupcakes have become such a huge, chic phenomenon,” says Cargill.  “Even though a slice of cake and a cupcake are the same thing, people like a cupcake because of the nostalgia. Visually, it evokes memories of bake sales, birthday parties, skating rinks, etc.”



Close to home, downtown Tacoma’s hello, cupcake on Pacific Avenue opened last year as a virtual tiptoe through the past in Cargill’s eyes.



“Cupcakes are a great regressive experience,” Cargill adds. “Deliciously puerile, especially with a glass of milk.”

But what about the lust? 

Cargill rolls a lot into her discussions about food and who we are as diners.  Yet, she abandons the story just before things turn to the bedroom.  She mentioned the word “lust,” but what about lustful lust?  Where is sex in all of this?



I let Cargill off that hook, and instead, turned to a different expert, asking, as Americans turn more and more to loving good food — are they also bringing food into their loving?



“The dessert portion yes,” says Jennifer Stock, senior buyer at Lover’s Package. “We are still indulging our bodies in the sweets. Gourmet chocolate topping was a hot seller for Valentine’s. We enticed our customers with ‘if you can put it on your ice cream and eat it, you can put it on your body and lick it off.’”



Oh my.



“There are other sensual edible items that sell well year-round,” Stock continues.  “Flavored whipped cream, fruit flavor massage oils, even edible candles — I think that Americans open their fridges and see a whole array of food erotica.”



I imagine Freud could cook up quite an explanation for all of that.  Whether any of it correlates to the forces explained above, who knows?  As Cargill says, “The mind is so complicated it is easy to lose sight of the forces at work.”



Bottom line, as is true with most things on the list of deadly sins, one may need an analyst to sort out his food lust.  What you eat likely runs deep.  In my case, I just hope I’m not giving my dinner the wrong idea.