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O que me diverti a ler o A Cooks's Tour do Anthony Bourdain... e as memórias que me trouxe agora...

por Paulina Mata, em 08.06.18

 

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I learned, for the first time, that I could indeed look my food in the eyes before eating it - and I came away from the experience, I hope, with considerably more respect for what we call "the ingredient". I am more confirmed than ever in my love for pork, pork fat, and cured pork. And I am less likely to waste it. That's something I owe to the pork. I know now what a pork chop costs in terms of the living, breathing thing that was killed to supply it.

 

I'll always remember, as one does in moments of extremis, the tiny, innocuous details - the blanck expressions on the children's faces, the total lack of affect. They were farm kids who'd seen this before many times. They were used to the ebb and flow of life, its at-times-bloody passing. The look in their faces could barely be describes as interest. A passing bus or an ice-cream truck would probably have evoked more reaction.

 

And I'd seen an animal die. It changed me. I didn´t feel good about it. It was, in fact, unpleasant in the extreme. I felt guilty, a little bit ashamed. I felt bad for that pig, imagining his panic, pain, and fear. But he'd tasted delicious. We'd wasted maybe eight ounces of his total weight. 

It would be easier next time.

 

Anthony Bourdain em "A Cook's Tour" sobre uma experiência de uma matança do porco na quinta da família de José Meirelles

 

 

Também nunca mais me esqueci desta citação do mesmo livro:

 

For the first few months working with the guy (José Meirelles), it used to irritate me. What was I going to do with all that quince jelly and weird sheep's milk cheese? What the hell is Superbock beer? José would go into these fugue states, and the next thing you knew, I'd have buckets of salted codfish tongues soaking in my walk-in. You know how hard it is to sell codfish tongues on Park avenue?

 

O que me diverti a ler aquele livro, e sobretudo o capítulo sobre Portugal! Passaram bem uns 10 anos, mas ainda me lembro de numa tarde de Verão me rir imenso sozinha a ler o livro. E agora, ler as discussões no Forum da Nova Crítica, onde fui buscar estas citações, também me fez rir e sentir alguma nostalgia... não sou de ter saudades do tempo que passou, mas daquele tenho! Muitas...!!!