In the beautiful world of ten thousand things, with its seemingly countless variety of curiosities, there is almost always that singular and beloved entity that brings an individual so much personal joy, that ignites a heart with hope, possibility, and curiosity. (For me, it’s textiles. A fabric store, even a mediocre one, fills a hungry mind with possibilities– variegated color, varied textures refresh something deep inside that gets weary from the day to day.) For the multi talented actor and writer Stanley Tucci, it’s undoubtedly food that inspires the best of him. Reading his recent gastronomical memoir, Taste: My Life Through Food, makes one feel as though they’re sipping a cocktail across from their old friend Stanley, while he regales them with endless stories about dishes he’s had with people he loves, stacking up personal and treasured recipes like a sacred totem pole.
With evident passion, Tucci confides the joy of window shopping the markets: “… even when I am out and about running errands or in between meetings in different neighborhoods of London, I can’t help but walk into any butcher shop or fishmonger I come across to simply peruse. I visit them in the same way I visit an art gallery. I’m not necessarily there to buy; I just want to see the exhibit” (220). But as fulfilling and pleasurable as the sensual experience is when taking in that object of one’s enthusiasm, it can quickly fall short when not shared with others who celebrate and equally understand its value.
To highlight this truth, Tucci draws out the substantive social connection between monger and customer: “… the fishmonger will also be able to impart to you the knowledge of how to cook it even in the most basic way. It is this interaction between customer and purveyor that then makes our connection to whatever it is we are buying stronger. To me, eating well is not just about what tastes good but about the connections that are made through the food itself” (221). He is not referring to small talk, but rather more connective (but not necessarily more formal) dialogue. When he engages with another person who is involved heartily in the supply chain of food, he acquires more than just a little information about his purchase–he acquires validation in a meaningful way that speaks to his authentic self by way of beloved things.
Tucci’s insight drives at something more critical about connection and counters our current state of divisiveness and loneliness well documented in America. Simple small talk will not suffice. To mitigate the ills brought on by the isolation we suffer, quality conversation is vital. From recent social science research, we know that isolation and loneliness are their own pandemic in our country. Researcher and best selling author Dr. Brené Brown in conversation with former US Surgeon General Dr. Vivik Murthy reminds us “A growing number of research papers were reporting that loneliness was associated with a greater risk of coronary heart disease, high blood pressure, stroke, dementia, depression, and anxiety. Studies were also suggesting that lonely people were more likely to have lower quality sleep, more immune system dysfunction and more impulsive behavior and impaired judgment.” Being lonely, being divided from others is more then just a bummer, it’s deadly.
Meaningful connection with others over a shared passion is critical to our health and to our society. Tucci expands, “But what are also disappearing are the wonderful, vital human connections we’re able to make when we buy something we love to eat from someone who loves to sell it, who bought it from someone who loves to grow, catch, or raise it. Whether we know it or not, great comfort is found in these relationships, and they are very much a part of what solidifies a community” (221). Not only is substantive conversation about common passions necessary for our physical and mental health, it also bolsters our communities. It is a counterpoise to the divisiveness and loneliness that damages ourselves, and in turn, our society.
Indisputably, the things we love connect us to our authentic self, and in doing so, allow us a critical venue with which to connect more essentially with other people, strengthening ourselves and the precious world in which we live.
