An ode to food tourism
Or why it’s maybe not so weird to be thinking of tacos when at the Eiffel Tower
This past weekend David and I were in Paris. If you’re a regular reader of Come como Kiki, you’ll know that we were there for the Champions League final, and regular readers can also probably guess that about 90% of our trip revolved around food. Actually, now that I think of it, David was nice enough to buy me popcorn at the stadium so I guess in actuality eating comprised about 95% of my time in France (the other 5% accounts for the tiny bit of sleep that I got while I was there).
Of course, this is a (slight) exaggeration. France = delicious French food, but you can’t go to Paris without visiting the all of the attractions, including the iconic Eiffel Tower. Even if you’ve seen it before, it’s almost sacrilege to not at least pass by to catch a glimpse while you’re in the city. This time around we took the metro and got off a stop early, so that we could approach the tower from the opposite side of the Seine. While taking pictures from afar, I spotted the graffiti tag pictured above: “I WANT TACOS. TACOS IS LIFE.” After initially wondering if the “Tacos is life” part was a Ted Lasso reference1, I thought to myself, Who would be thinking about tacos while looking at the Eiffel Tower? You have this emblematic piece of architecture in front of you, and all you can think about is food? And then I answered my own question: I would. I would be thinking of food at a time like this. And I suspect I’m not the only one.
Traveling brings the opportunity to see and engage in many different types of cultural experiences. One of the most important, in my opinion, is food. Before I go on, I want to clarify that I am not arguing that architecture and the arts are not important. I lived in Chicago, a city famous for its buildings designed by greats such as Daniel Burnham, Louis Sullivan, and Frank Lloyd Wright. The significance and importance of historical landmarks and monuments is not lost on me. I’m even a person who actually enjoys spending a couple of hours wandering around a museum! Despite all this, I think there’s something remarkable about experiencing another culture through its cuisine. It offers a type of connection that just can’t be replicated by other types of tourism.
While seeing something like the Eiffel Tower is impressive, it can never compare to sampling a local food. That may seem flippant, but it’s true. We can only experience the Eiffel Tower with one or two senses: we can see its soaring height and the intricate lattice that weaves from base to peak, and if we choose to visit the monument we can run our hands on the cool iron it’s composed of. But food offers us all five senses. Take a croissant: we have the heavenly smell of freshly-baked bread, the sight of a perfectly toasted crust, the texture of the pastry’s flaky ridges on our fingertips, the audible crunch when you bite into the outer layer of baked dough, and the luscious taste of butter that fills your mouth when that first morsel finally hits your tongue.2 I can describe maybe five of the paintings that I saw last weekend from my two and a half hours at the Musée d'Orsay, but I can recount every single dish that I ate while I was in Paris in delectable detail (and there were definitely more than five of them).
Aside from the sensory explosion, there’s also a personal connection that comes with food. Gustave Eiffel engineered his masterpiece back in the late 1800s. That is impressive in its own right, as no structure had been built reaching even 200 meters tall at that time. But I would suggest that all of those years puts a certain temporal and physical distance between a person and their engagement with the monument. Contrast that with food, which is made by a person whose physical distance is typically just a room or two away from us. That person has used their own hands to prepare the food sitting in front of you, minutes before it reaches your table, which makes the experience much more personal and evocative. Maybe this is why I have such a problem with the concept of quinta gama3 here in Madrid: you think you’re getting a food that’s been freshly and lovingly prepared for you, when in reality it’s been transported from a ghost kitchen and reheated before making its way to your plate. What an estafa4.
And this is only speaking of food that you get in restaurants. If you’re lucky enough to have a culinary experience in a local home while you’re traveling? Priceless. In Galicia, which is a province in northwestern Spain, there is the concept of a furancho, which is a private home where the owners sell wine made from their own vineyard, along with small plates of food as an accompaniment. Furanchos are not so common anymore (I’m sure the invention of government food inspectors and regulations had something to do with this), but you can still occasionally find similar establishments if you know where to look. When we were in Galicia last summer, David took me to a place where a woman and her husband prepare tortillas de patata over an open fire at their stone home. The dining area contains literally three wooden tables covered with antiquated manteles5, the leña6, and an area to prepare sides such as fried chorizo. The lady of the house prepares the tortillas while her husband serves the food and wine. Everything we ate was delicious, and what’s more, the whole experience felt so intimate and significant, participating in this little slice of history and tradition.
Another point for food in the visuals-vs-vittles7 debate is that food is more accessible than other forms of tourism. I don’t mean in the sense of cost, although croissants and baguettes are surprisingly cheap in France (other food not so much). I’m referring more to the idea that it can be appreciated by anyone, with no prior background knowledge needed. If you know nothing about the history of the Mona Lisa, it’s just an old painting of some random woman wearing a drab dress. But you don’t need to be a chef to appreciate a meal. No one is immune from the dopamine release8 you get from eating a pain au chocolat.
So yeah, maybe it’s not so weird to be thinking about food while at the Eiffel Tower. How can you not when you’re surrounded by bakeries and food stands wafting aromas with promises of sugar-studded chouquettes and made-to-order crepes?
But thinking specifically about tacos? Well, I have no argument for that.
As always, a few notes before you go:
Un petit correction regarding my Friday Favorites post from 5/27: In my croissant-induced haze I left off the second “R” in Montmartre. A small but important detail! My apologies to my favorite Parisian neighborhood, and the French language.
A note on tacos: I love them, and I’m not slighting them in the least in my last paragraph; they’re just obviously not a traditional French food. They aren’t a Spanish one either (despite the misconception that some people from the US have, likely due to a common confusion of Latin American culture vs. Spanish culture), but if you happen to be in Madrid and craving one, I highly recommend Takos al Pastor. The wait is always insane, but the line goes fast, the menu is cheap, and the tacos are delicious (David tells me the quesadillas are also awesome).
Speaking of the Mona Lisa, we narrowly missed being at the Louvre for the latest vandalism attempt against Da Vinci’s masterpiece. I’m all for mixing food and art, but this is one instance I can’t get behind.
We’re traveling again this weekend, so I will try my best to get out a Friday Favorites newsletter this week. If I don’t, posts will resume on their normal schedule next week.
What are your thoughts on food tourism? Do you make it a point to try local cuisine when you travel? Or do you think I’m wrong and I’ve completely disrespected the Iron Lady?9 Let me know in the comments!
If you haven’t seen Ted Lasso you’re missing out! It’s so much more than just a show about soccer, and I enjoy having a feel-good palate cleanser to the grittier dramas we typically watch. Also if you don’t love Roy Kent after watching then we can’t be friends anymore.
Sorry if I made you hungry!
Quinta gama: literally “fifth range,” and refers to food that has been pre-prepared and pre-cooked. There was an exposé recently about how many restaurants in Madrid use products that are considered quinta gama and then pass the dishes off as if they had been freshly prepared.
Estafa: scam. It’s one of my favorite words and I use it a lot, way more than I use the word “scam” in English.
Manteles: tablecloths
Leña: literally “firewood,” here referring to the open fire on which the tortillas are prepared
Visuals as in visual arts. I guess one could also argue performing arts vs food, but I get the feeling that more people go to see the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre than to catch a performance at the Paris Opera Ballet.
I tried to find an article to link about how dopamine is released when we eat, but everything I found revolved around overeating and calories. If anyone has any good articles or research that reference this without the attached guilt, please send them my way!
The Iron Lady: the most famous nickname for the Eiffel Tower (and also Margaret Thatcher).
I really enjoyed this - I was in Croatia last month and j think I learned as much about Dubrovnik through its food as it’s architecture (which was stunning, by the way!) I also love the way food allows you to experience a culture remotely yet authentically (I’m thinking of a brilliant Bosnian restaurant we tried in Croatia, as it’s just next door but a country I have no plans to visit at this point - we had no idea what to expect, but everything was unique, delicious and I now have a great affection for their food.) And again this piece made me think about food can make you feel part of a community you’re not quite fitting in with. Only a simple grasp on the language, their location quite far out of the village and time still spent in England meant my parents were not quite part of village life when they lived in France, but every time we went for lunch at the village auberge for the plat de jour, when everyone from farmers to estate agents came in to enjoy the same thing as a community, we felt connected.
Thanks so much for your comment, Rachel! I completely agree- food is the great equalizer! Your comment about your parents and France reminded me of when my own parents have come to visit me in Madrid. Neither of them speak Spanish, but both have felt at home when we’ve gone out to eat in the city. In fact, the food is what they talk about enjoying the most. Also, I’m envious of your trip to Croatia; it sounds like it was an amazing experience!