Salad Dressing and Food Memory
November 30, 2020 2 Comments
Why I still like ranch dressing even though I am not fourteen
Recently, I made a salad dressing from a recipe created by Jeff Chamberlain, a friend from Facebook. I’ve included the following ingredients below as proof.
Jeff describes the recipe as “Ranch for Grownups.” You see, Jeff disapproves of ranch dressing consumption for anyone over the age of fourteen. But don’t take it from me, here is a direct quote from Jeff himself:
I have a strong opinion about Ranch dressing. That opinion is that it need not be consumed by anyone over the age of 14 least they be presumed to have absolutely no culinary taste. They might as well put ketchup on their steak.
Is ranch just for kids? My argument with Lisa Stringer (my tried and true tested recipe included)
Out of his deep concern for my lack of culinary refinement, Jeff created the “Only Acceptable Ranch Dressing Recipe.” The recipe was nice, and was great on a cobb salad, but it still wasn’t “ranch.”
Even Jeff admits it is more of a Buttermilk Dressing, “more sour, garlic, umami” and without the sweetness he dislikes in traditional ranch. I started thinking about why this recipe, while very tasty, didn’t really meet the bar for me. That is when I realized it was missing one crucial ingredient, nostalgia.
When considering other foods, for which I have an inexplicable craving, I noticed a pattern. For example, when I go to the store for cucumbers, they have to be a specific kind: the small pickling cucumbers. They are smaller in size and a bit bumpier than their cousins. They are all essentially cucumbers. What is it about the subtle difference that fails to trigger the proper effect? I am the same way about fries. When I go out for fries, I prefer the natural cut fries to the crispier golden McDonalds variety.
The key isn’t in food itself, but in its context. These specific foods, for me, are a link to the past. When my brother and I were very young, we spent most of our summer days at my grandmother’s house in the country. For lunch, we would have the fresh pickling cucumbers picked directly from her garden, sliced on a plate with potatoes she fried in a cast iron skillet with lard. Only a specific type of cucumber and a specific preparation of a potato can reproduce the context of that experience.
Fast forward to my love of ranch dressing that began when I started boarding school at San Marcos Academy. The girls at this school were fans of this stuff. They would create ranch-based concoctions from the salad bar in the cafeteria that would make Paula Dean take note. Here are some instructions if you would like to create one yourself:
- Fill a small bowl with cottage cheese.
- Cover ALL of the cottage cheese thoroughly with a layer of ranch dressing.
- Add bacon bits. Not real bacon, but those bright red fake bacon bits next to the sunflower seeds and squares of croutons.
- Finish the dish with a sprinkle of black pepper.
- Optional: Add cheddar cheese goldfish crackers as a garnish.
I tried the dish a couple of times, out of respect for the indigenous culture, but I was never able to ever acquire a taste for it.
Adjacent to the cafeteria was a snack bar manned by a college boy. Back then, he seemed so much older and more sophisticated than us. Looking back, I think he must have been biding his time serving fried foods between his liberal arts classes. I’m not sure where he is now. He is older certainly, in real life, but in my memory he will always be the young kid with unruly hair that my friends would create excuses to talk to. It was in this snack bar that I first tried fried cheese. Cheese sticks deep fried in breading served over checkered paper in a plastic basket, the dish came with five-star recommendations from my classmates, and… a side of ranch.
The girls also introduced me to the show, Saturday Night Live. I discovered that watching this show was as much as a requirement for survival in school as actual coursework. Only your teacher will notice if you miss a couple of math problems. However, you can’t get away with a quizzical look on your face when the cute guy in your art class squishes a clay sculpture saying “oh no… Mr. Bill” in a falsetto voice.
So, I would stay up late, catching up on my popular culture by watching Dana Carvey play the Church Lady. This experience was accompanied with orders of cheese sticks from the local pizzeria. The cheese sticks, which I think we ordered consistently because they were cheaper than pizza, were basically pizza crust buried in layers of mozzarella, cut into narrow rectangles, and served with … a side of ranch.
This may be a good time to note that Jeff Chamberlain finds the pizza-ranch paring particularly distasteful.
I began to wonder why I have some type of emotional connection to these specific foods. Is it because they are a connection to my past? Why are food memories so powerful? I didn’t have to google very far.
Of all the explanations, I like the way Susan Krauss Whitbourne describes the connection. Susanna Zaraysky quotes her in her article in BBC Travel:
Food memories involve very basic, nonverbal, areas of the brain that can bypass your conscious awareness. This is why you can have strong emotional reactions when you eat a food that arouses those deep unconscious memories. You can’t put those memories into words, but you know there is ‘something’ that the food triggers deep within your past. The memory goes beyond the food itself to the associations you have to that long-ago memory, whether with a place or a person.
Susan Krauss Whitbourne, Professor Emerita of Psychology at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, Why food memories are so powerful by Susanna Zaraysky
It isn’t really about the food itself, but the emotional connection. Food pulls at the tide of your memory.
In “Food and Memory – How are they linked,” Joy Intriago describes how experts in the medical field are using food memory connections to treat patients with dementia. Nursing homes use nostalgia to combat memory loss by playing music from the same era as the patient. The music can trigger lost memories and ease anxiety. Specialized memory units in nursing homes are taking this a step further, using the “strong sensory, biological and psychological link between food and memory” to make progress in memory related challenges.
Maybe the attraction to these foods are tied to my faint recollection of long summer days spent in the country or the fond memory of sharing food with friends. The point is that it was always more than just a type of cucumber or a brand of salad dressing. Food can be a connection to the past that is tangible and real. The reason I still like ranch dressing even though I am not fourteen is that I am still a child at heart.
Do you have any special food memories? Tell me about them in the comments! Then, take a trip to Jeff’s blog to make some ranch dressing for grownups.