Meet Remy, or “Little Chef”, the animated star of Disney’s Ratatouille. This cartoon character has profoundly influenced my culinary journey and how I experience food. It might sound unusual, learning about food from a cartoon rat, but Remy’s passion for food in Ratatouille is incredibly infectious and insightful.
In one memorable scene, set in a Parisian alleyway, Remy ventures into a kitchen pantry, leaving his brother Emile behind in search of a late-night snack. Upon his return, he finds Emile indulging in garbage. “No no no,” Remy scolds, “spit that out!” He then proceeds to instruct Emile on the proper way to eat, a lesson immediately lost on his brother who, unable to resist, grabs an entire chunk of cheese and devours it in one go. “No no no,” Remy reprimands again, “don’t just hork it down!”
“Don’t just hork it down?” This simple line, delivered by a cartoon rat, sparked a significant shift in my perspective on eating. Watching this scene, I couldn’t help but reflect on my own eating habits. Was I a “horker” of food? Did I mindlessly shovel food, never truly pausing to consider what I was eating or to savor the flavors? Was I missing out on a fundamental aspect of enjoying food, much like Emile in the cartoon?
A bit of honest self-reflection revealed an uncomfortable truth: I had indeed been a less-than-patient eater for much of my life. For years, food was primarily viewed as fuel, a necessity to keep going, and little more. Sure, food tasted good, but never quite good enough to warrant spending more than the bare minimum time consuming it. The idea of truly experiencing food, as Remy the cartoon chef does, was foreign.
Remy introduces his brother to a new way of eating by presenting him with a piece of cheese, described as salty and sweet with a nutty finish – likely Reblochon, a distinguished French cheese. He expertly pairs this cheese with a fresh strawberry. Inspired by this Cartoon And Food moment, I decided to recreate the experience. I visited the grocery store, purchased strawberries and brie (as Reblochon is not easily available), and consciously made an effort to sit down and truly enjoy this simple pairing. It felt almost ironic that I had to force myself to enjoy something, but perhaps a tendency to “hork” food is ingrained, possibly even genetic.
I took a small piece of brie and placed it on my tongue, focusing intently on discerning the complex flavors within. It took a few minutes of concentration, but gradually, I began to perceive that brie was more than just “cheese”. It possessed layers of flavor waiting to be discovered. I repeated the process with the strawberry, paying attention to the initial tanginess and the underlying sweetness of the fruit. Then, eating the brie and strawberry together, a new dimension emerged. Flavors intertwined and evolved, creating a taste experience that was far greater than the sum of its parts. Unlike the abrupt and fleeting flavor rush that keeps “horkers” in their cycle, this was a gradual unfolding, a mellow and satisfying experience that gently subsided, leaving a pleasant aftertaste.
Think about passionate hobbies: skiers ski, dancers dance, parents parent, knitters knit. They dedicate themselves to these activities because they provide purpose and joy. If we work to live, shouldn’t life include moments of genuine enjoyment and fulfillment? I had been working since a young age, yet I realized I hadn’t been investing my earnings in experiences that truly resonated with me. I had acquired things, gone to movies, paid bills – the usual routines. But none of it ignited a deep passion, a yearning to engage in it constantly. I was searching for my place, my passion. It’s almost comical now to realize that the answer, quite literally, was right under my nose all along, in the everyday act of eating.
In a brief, thirty-second scene from an animated movie, Disney, through a cartoon mouse and his garbage-loving brother, managed to completely transform my perspective on something as ordinary as eating, and in doing so, illuminated a potential passion. I found myself identifying with Remy, despite our obvious differences in species. Remy lived for the experience that accompanies food, the mindful appreciation of flavors and textures. Now, I strive to do the same.
Eaters eat, diners dine, cooks cook. Hi, my name is Keith, and thanks to a cartoon and food, I’m embracing my identity as a foodie.
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For further reading on the benefits of focusing on one thing at a time to enhance life enjoyment, I highly recommend this post by Dr. Gerald Stein. His insights are incredibly valuable.
