In a Divided World, Food a Thing to Share

This may be the holiday season, but judging by front pages of newspapers and evening news reports, humans have become very divisive. It’s almost as though we are defined more by our differences than by our similarities; the ties that bind seem to have slip knots.

Even the interests we hold in common--Orange County municipal bonds, middle class tax breaks, O.J. and Heidi--are hardly the stuff of holiday greeting cards.

Isn’t this the time of year when a warm hearth is supposed to lure us in from the cold and isolation of winter and remind us what we mean to one another? When we remember the things we cherish? Things like home, faith, family. And food.

Yes, I said food, which is way up there on my list of Things I Hold Dear. And anyone who believes that a deep and abiding love of food denigrates the real spirit of the holidays might like to answer the question, “How do you spend a good chunk of time between the end of November and the beginning of January?”

Food--besides being filling and a tasty way to improve the disposition of family members who otherwise don’t get along that well--serves another purpose, one very much in keeping with the spirit of generosity flourishing this time of year: It provides an opportunity for people who can cook and bake delicious treats to do so for those who cannot.

Free-lance writer Barbara Tone, who cannot, wrote this week’s Centerpiece story about people who can--culinary arts students in the hotel and restaurant management program at Oxnard College.

“Basically,” Tone said, “I’m not a very good cook. I have a lot of friends who are. You know the people I mean, the ones who can whip up a perfect meal effortlessly, who seem to have been born knowing how to do it.”

When she heard about the Oxnard College program, Tone thought it would be a unique opportunity to find out whether cooking is a learned skill or if some people are just born with metal whisks in their hands.

“What was interesting to me was that every student I talked to, without exception, said he or she loved food. Each one said something like, ‘I’ve been making omelets since the first grade,’ ” Tone said.

“The other fascinating thing was that not a single student looked bewildered or puzzled around the kitchen, and none of them seemed terrified that things would come out at the same time. I have yet to make a meal where everything arrives warm to the table, unless, of course, I throw it all in the Crock Pot.”

So what did Tone learn in her days spent with the culinary arts students?

“Ultimately,” she said, “I found out there is no hope for me.”