My cousin Noel is really a fantastic cook. I've reflected since last night on what deeper meaning I can find in that statement. I don't think it can be considered a coincidence that this many members of my family all share a passion for food, cooking, and dining. I'm also not certain that this is strictly a matter of being exposed to food through my family, though that must certainly be a contributing factor. I believe it to be something inexorably passed on through my family's blood, and through many family's bloodlines. I believe that passion for food is a perfect combination of genetic and cultural heritage. Not nature vs. nurture, but more nature + nurture, where the sum is greater than the individual parts.
I regret that my Grandfather succumbed to Alzheimer's Disease when I was young. I remember little about him before he began fading. The majority of my spotty recollections are filled in with stories recounted by my Mother. I can picture the things he did, but I cannot remember them. When I think back to my time with him I think of the disease first, and that makes me very sad. I wish he were alive and in a healthy enough mental state to participate in the passionate, yet casually meandering evening of food I experienced last night with my family.
