Nana’s Delight
Elisabeth Rennie
Food is wonderful. It can create complete enjoyment or utter discomfort.It controls so many daily actions and has the ability to changeone’s mood, attitude, or lifestyle. Food can force us to run,hide, lie, and cry. It carries with it more than smell or taste,but its own reputation, memories, its own life. One particulardish that I have had with me my entire life seems to captivatethat full power of food.
I am not sure when the first time was that I sampled my Nana’sSeafood Delight, but I will never forget the fishy scent, awfultaste, gooey texture, or multi-colored appearance. Seafood Delighthas been presented to me in more forms than I can count. Its formhas ranged from filling for sandwiches, to quiche, to a toppingfor crackers and pretzels. Nothing, however, could make me oranyone else in my family think that Seafood Delight would be pleasantor in any way enjoyable to eat. Of course, we are all forced bymy Nana to eat it at all possible opportunities. As far as myNana knows, Seafood Delight is our favorite food to eat. No onesays anything, and we all simply try to find new ways to get ourdishes to the garbage without her noticing.
Seafood Delight is truly a legend within my family and is constantlythe butt of jokes. It also serves as an understood term depictingmy Nana’s quest for a food she can serve that is healthy, elaborate,and mysterious in taste, smell, and color. It also helps thatSeafood Delight fits neatly into all of the four basic food groups.Any unidentifiable food that could not possibly be good to eatis collectively referred to as “Seafood Delight.” Wehave all put up with the food over the years because it has takenon a life of its own. Seafood Delight, as many other dishes servedup by people’s grandmothers, aunts, mothers, or neighbors, hasa power and an energy all its own. It cannot be fought. It seemsthat whenever food like this is presented, one must simply sitback, fork another bite down, smile, and attempt to conceal anygagging, spitting, or dry-heaving.