“Eating, loving, singing and digesting are, in truth, the four acts of the comic opera known as life, and they pass like the bubbles of a bottle of champagne. Whoever lets them break without having enjoyed them is a complete fool.”
—Gioachino Rossini
Say what you will about Rossini’s music, but that quote is clearly an indication that the man had his priorities in order. At the premiere of William Tell, the last of his 40 operas, Rossini was only 37 years old. Living off of the earnings from his massively successful operas, he spent most of the remaining 40 years of his life planning and hosting weekly parties full of food, drink, and music. Truly living the dream. Not to deviate too much from the point I’m going to try to make in this post, but Rossini’s love of food was so well known that he has an appropriately decadent dish named after him—Tournedos Rossini.
Now listen: I truly believe I have a unique relationship with food. Ratatouille and Jiro Dreams of Sushi are two of my all-time favorite movies; I can recite Anton Ego’s review from memory, and one summer when I worked as a chaperone for the Houston Ballet Academy, I definitely forced a bunch of teenage girls to watch “the sushi movie” as they lovingly called it. The fact that both films are beautiful allegories for trying to be an artist is totally unrelated to this post, which is definitely only about food. The first thing I asked someone when they told me they had visited Austin was, “where did you eat?” and when my boss asked me for cool things to do in Houston, I literally just sent her a list of restaurants, cafes, and bars. I know this obsession might border on the unhealthy AND YEAH MAYBE EATING AN ENTIRE LOU MALNATI’S PIZZA AFTER AN AUDITION IS LITERALLY UNHEALTHY but I truly cannot overstate my love of food.
Ironically enough, I was an extremely picky eater as a child. Be assured that thinking about this period of my life fills me with deep shame, and we all know that kids are idiots anyway. Luckily it actually was just a phase, mom, and now I’ll try pretty much anything at least a few times before deciding if I like it or not—pickles are still gross though FIGHT ME. Until recently, most of my appreciation for food was as an enthusiastic consumer. I don’t have to list all the reasons why it’s easier to go out to eat or to show up to a friend’s place with a bottle of wine and watch them cook while you definitely only drink half the bottle… wait what? Anyways, cooking has always intimidated me. Honestly, it still does, and I am very much a novice in the kitchen. And cooking for other people? Forget it. Everyone in Vanguard knows I still get performance anxiety when making omelets—if you follow me on Instagram you know that I’ve made hundreds of these. The musician in me always wants everything perfectly placed and presented, and unfortunately this tendency can bleed into other parts of my life. Trying new things is scary, and when you spend most of your time being Very Good™ at one thing, the thought of being bad at anything, especially publicly, can be horrifying. Plus feeding someone else is such a primal act. You’re basically saying, “Here, eat this! I want you to stay alive!” Maybe I’m overthinking this…
Anyway, cooking, like making music, is an art. It can be messy and imperfect and frustrating, but always enjoyable with good company. Since joining Vanguard last year, I’ve tried so many new things, musical and otherwise. Before our retreat in August, I had never even used a grill, but I managed to successfully make bacon-wrapped chicken kebabs and a dozen or so beer brats (with the help of the South Bend Farmer’s Market as well!). The bacon cups were also completely untested! We had a lot of bacon that week…
Let’s take a moment to circle back to Rossini for a moment. After he stopped composing operas, Rossini’s musical output consisted mainly of smaller, perhaps less serious works for solo piano, voice, and various chamber ensembles. Most of these pieces were intended neither for public performance nor publication, but instead were meant to be shared with the guests of his intimate Parisian parties. I would say that these are some of Rossini’s most personal works, given that he clearly saw music and food as nourishment to both spirit and body together. But I bet his friends helped more with the dishes than rest of Vanguard does…
