What a joy to find your essay in my inbox this morning. You are a master at weaving your personal story into a narrative that brings us into a world influenced by the cultural, social, historical, and literary traditions that allow readers to relate through our own lives. We all have some equivalent of melon bread. Mine is “Christmas bread,” fragrant with cardamom and raisins, iced with an almond-extract glaze, a Swedish recipe handed down from my grandmother to my mother to me. I make it for special occasions throughout the year.
I don’t have memories of comic books - they were banned in my household - but a walk with my brothers to a decades-old library, bringing home a stack of books, reading them and returning for more, was a highlight of my Saturdays. I must have been about four or five. We stopped at Jack’s store (a bit seedy, they sold chewing tobacco and low-ABV beer) for penny candy along the way.
About the “Music has charms” misquote: it was a deliberate way for the publishers to sneak in some Shakespeare, with more than one possible reason. It was puritanical - oh, how boys would have been titillated (sorry!) by the word “breast!”; - a sly way to create respectability through literary allusions; and a genuine, widespread, innocent misreading of Shakespeare. Americans did not study his work until high school, if we did at all. “Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast” was, in fact, how I learned the quote.
Thank you again, Jeffrey, for a delightful read. Proust’s madeleine, intentional or not.
Thank you for such a rich comment, Mary. That library memory sounds wonderful and makes me want to know more! And the Christmas bread sounds delicious.
I too learned the quote that way. In the minds of all but the most serious readers, that is how it was written. And “savage beast” makes perfect sense, a literary eggcorn. Sigrid Nunez riffs on it in THE FRIEND, which I am now revisiting with pleasure.
Perhaps the wisdom of history has decided that it's a better line with "beast". I don't don't Nunez's work at all, so I will check out "The Friend". Thank you, Rona!
When I was in West Africa, the staple grains, millet and rice, were, of course, boiled over open fires. But they did have some beehive clay oven bakeries scattered throughout the village, where long thin loaves of imported white flour were baked, but only enough for the day, as the bread became iron hard overnight. If you wanted bread that day, you had to buy it early - by late afternoon, there would be none left. The neighbourhood food sellers offered whole or half loaves spread with a spicy bean sauce, called nebbe, for lunch. It was delicious.
In Athens, the neighbourhood bakeries made a wide variety of loaves. My favorite was identified as artos, which is the ancient Biblical Greek word for bread. Some artos is specially stamped in licensed bakeries for use in the Orthodox Eucharist, but other loaves of artos, baked in large squares and sold in halves or quarters, are for regular consumption. It tastes like a sourdough bread and, if well wrapped to keep the outer crust from drying out, will last for up to a week (although it is so good it is usually finished long before).
On Baffin Island, the Inuit traditional bread is bannock, which is essentially a doughy quickbread that could be baked over an open fire in a pan or even twisted around a stick. Baking with flour is something the Inuit learned from whalers and fur traders, but they have become masters in the art - their homemade doughnuts were second to none.
I was biting into a fresh blueberry muffin reading your lovely piece, while sampling the sweet, baked-in berry tastes of a Maine summer.
Although, generally speaking, for me, it's not Proust's madeleine, but the flakiness of a toasty, melty petit pain au chocolat that evokes memories--of my year abroad studies in Strasbourg, and my many return visits to la belle, douce France!
Thank you, Robin. I can well imagine a good pain au chocolat having that effect. My first taste of French food came at 14 on a six-week school exchange. The family I stayed with used to dip hunks of baguette into hot chocolate for breakfast, which seemed rather astounding to me at the time.
It’s a marvel (I couldn’t resist) to rekindle in Tokyo a memory of your English childhood. The unlikely but satisfying union of east and west, Shakespeare and Marvel comics is characteristically Jeffrey Streeter, and the “pocket-warmed” coin made me smile.
I'm glad you liked that phrase, Rona! I no longer remember having any of the old currency (except a sixepence that lingered among my meagre savings for a while), but I do remember the shiny new pence. Coins aren't used that much in England now, but in Japan it's very handy to have a few of them for small purchases and th ubiquitous vending machines, many of which still only accept coins.
Thank you for this unsentimental journey, Jeffrey. I read somewhere that the smell of baking bread evokes home even in people who never had access to it. A powerful transportation indeed. I love how you walk the line of a clear eyed affection and appreciation for both the past and the bounties of the present. So rude of Seven Eleven to muck about your melon pan. There is a particular dismay in losing such modest and easily available joys, that almost rises to the level of affront.
Excellent. It is interesting how a particular food from another culture can remind of thoughts about experiences in one's own culture. It can also be of solace when you might not be having a good day possibly thinking about what has been lost or never quite gained.
As you admire Japan, I admire India (and was wondering about that Japanese curry cake). Am thinking there is a slight similarity in that India is south Asian and Japan is north north Asian.
Indian food I think of is fresh cooked nan flatbread that puffs up on a hot skillet, has to be pulled off before it burns, put on just a little of butter or ghee which is clarified butter and it melts in your mouth and chicken tika masala with a spicy red sauce slow cooked to the red color of a lobster's claw.
My Indian superheroes are Hanuman the monkey god for courage, Ganesh the elephant god for wisdom, memory and gentleness and Durga, who is the goddess of the innocent wronged who will smite the worst evildoers no matter where they might hide..
And you mention Shakespeare's Sonnet #30 which is an excellent reflection on life and a poet we neglect but who explains so much about our modern world.
People might not understand your admiration for Japan or my admiration for India. But other cultures help us better understand our own and how our differences are not there to divide us but to bring us closer to understanding the true nature of the family of all the world's people.
Thank you for another great comment and reflection, Larry. I'm familiar with nan bread of course, but the version served up in the UK or Japan may be different from the original. Japan is great at borrowing and then modifying. Pico Iyer wrote a fascinating essay on the subject recently in the NYT. Hence the curry bread and famous "curry rice" which are adapted from Indian recipes, I believe.
I discovered Marvel comics in 1985 in Crewkerne, Somerset. For 3 years, they were a welcome distraction from life, O- levels and A-levels. I was lucky to find them during a purple patch of content: Gruenwald's Cap, Claremont's X-Men and Frank Miller's Daredevil. You are right about them being glamorous and different. Saying that, I did love Whizzer and Chips, The Beano, Starlord, Victor, and 2000AD before them.
Thank you, James. Yes, those comics were indeed a welcome distraction from life. I also read the Beano. Somewhat monochrome by comparison, but very human and understandable.
Lovely, scent has sent me on many a memory trip-especially when followed up with a taste of a comforting food. And I am loving #30, now the second time you have brought it to me. Thank you, Jeffrey.
Took me awhile to get here, but what a lovely trip down memory lane - the novelty of walking down sidewalks in flimsy shoes! This might be one of your lovelier personal stories, Jeffrey. Question: Do they have cauliflower in Japan? Because that first one resembles it so much, I'm bemused they went with "melon" instead, visually if not euphonically. How amusing to discover, however, that the Japanese words for melon and cauliflower clearly have English roots? 😂
What a joy to find your essay in my inbox this morning. You are a master at weaving your personal story into a narrative that brings us into a world influenced by the cultural, social, historical, and literary traditions that allow readers to relate through our own lives. We all have some equivalent of melon bread. Mine is “Christmas bread,” fragrant with cardamom and raisins, iced with an almond-extract glaze, a Swedish recipe handed down from my grandmother to my mother to me. I make it for special occasions throughout the year.
I don’t have memories of comic books - they were banned in my household - but a walk with my brothers to a decades-old library, bringing home a stack of books, reading them and returning for more, was a highlight of my Saturdays. I must have been about four or five. We stopped at Jack’s store (a bit seedy, they sold chewing tobacco and low-ABV beer) for penny candy along the way.
About the “Music has charms” misquote: it was a deliberate way for the publishers to sneak in some Shakespeare, with more than one possible reason. It was puritanical - oh, how boys would have been titillated (sorry!) by the word “breast!”; - a sly way to create respectability through literary allusions; and a genuine, widespread, innocent misreading of Shakespeare. Americans did not study his work until high school, if we did at all. “Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast” was, in fact, how I learned the quote.
Thank you again, Jeffrey, for a delightful read. Proust’s madeleine, intentional or not.
Thank you for such a rich comment, Mary. That library memory sounds wonderful and makes me want to know more! And the Christmas bread sounds delicious.
Thank you! I believe cardamom was one of the three gifts of the Magi.
I too learned the quote that way. In the minds of all but the most serious readers, that is how it was written. And “savage beast” makes perfect sense, a literary eggcorn. Sigrid Nunez riffs on it in THE FRIEND, which I am now revisiting with pleasure.
Perhaps the wisdom of history has decided that it's a better line with "beast". I don't don't Nunez's work at all, so I will check out "The Friend". Thank you, Rona!
Oh, this brings back memories...
When I was in West Africa, the staple grains, millet and rice, were, of course, boiled over open fires. But they did have some beehive clay oven bakeries scattered throughout the village, where long thin loaves of imported white flour were baked, but only enough for the day, as the bread became iron hard overnight. If you wanted bread that day, you had to buy it early - by late afternoon, there would be none left. The neighbourhood food sellers offered whole or half loaves spread with a spicy bean sauce, called nebbe, for lunch. It was delicious.
In Athens, the neighbourhood bakeries made a wide variety of loaves. My favorite was identified as artos, which is the ancient Biblical Greek word for bread. Some artos is specially stamped in licensed bakeries for use in the Orthodox Eucharist, but other loaves of artos, baked in large squares and sold in halves or quarters, are for regular consumption. It tastes like a sourdough bread and, if well wrapped to keep the outer crust from drying out, will last for up to a week (although it is so good it is usually finished long before).
On Baffin Island, the Inuit traditional bread is bannock, which is essentially a doughy quickbread that could be baked over an open fire in a pan or even twisted around a stick. Baking with flour is something the Inuit learned from whalers and fur traders, but they have become masters in the art - their homemade doughnuts were second to none.
Thank you, Holly. Those are such fascinating comments and memories from around the world. And Inuit doughnuts? What a delightful surprise.
懐かしい!! Thank you for sharing this. I so miss my life in Japan. You connect so many threads in your essays in such an impressive and brilliant manner.
Thank you so much, Autumn!
I was biting into a fresh blueberry muffin reading your lovely piece, while sampling the sweet, baked-in berry tastes of a Maine summer.
Although, generally speaking, for me, it's not Proust's madeleine, but the flakiness of a toasty, melty petit pain au chocolat that evokes memories--of my year abroad studies in Strasbourg, and my many return visits to la belle, douce France!
Thank you, Robin. I can well imagine a good pain au chocolat having that effect. My first taste of French food came at 14 on a six-week school exchange. The family I stayed with used to dip hunks of baguette into hot chocolate for breakfast, which seemed rather astounding to me at the time.
Yum! Off to a French bakery this morning to meet friends. Chocolat chaud et baguette a la carte
Bon appetit!
Warmly engaging, beautiful piece! Sweet!(pun intended)
Thank you, Shawn!
Few scents are as good as baked bread. Loved reading this.
Thank you, Deirdre!
It’s a marvel (I couldn’t resist) to rekindle in Tokyo a memory of your English childhood. The unlikely but satisfying union of east and west, Shakespeare and Marvel comics is characteristically Jeffrey Streeter, and the “pocket-warmed” coin made me smile.
I'm glad you liked that phrase, Rona! I no longer remember having any of the old currency (except a sixepence that lingered among my meagre savings for a while), but I do remember the shiny new pence. Coins aren't used that much in England now, but in Japan it's very handy to have a few of them for small purchases and th ubiquitous vending machines, many of which still only accept coins.
Somehow you always manage to hit the sweet spot, Jeffrey! I bet there are many thoughts going off on tangents after reading this. Thank you.
Thank you for reading and commenting, Nicola!
This essay is delicious in every way. My mouth is literally watering!
Thank you, Kimberly. Tastes and smells can matter so much in our lives, can't they?
Thank you for this unsentimental journey, Jeffrey. I read somewhere that the smell of baking bread evokes home even in people who never had access to it. A powerful transportation indeed. I love how you walk the line of a clear eyed affection and appreciation for both the past and the bounties of the present. So rude of Seven Eleven to muck about your melon pan. There is a particular dismay in losing such modest and easily available joys, that almost rises to the level of affront.
"Almost rises to the level of affront." How beautifully you put it, Michelle!
Ah, Shakespeare and sonnet 30 and your past and your discovery and that melon pan! xx You're back and writing and I'm about to do a deep dive.
Thank you, Mary. Yes, I've been away and still catching up. I deeply appreciate your reading my work!
Excellent. It is interesting how a particular food from another culture can remind of thoughts about experiences in one's own culture. It can also be of solace when you might not be having a good day possibly thinking about what has been lost or never quite gained.
As you admire Japan, I admire India (and was wondering about that Japanese curry cake). Am thinking there is a slight similarity in that India is south Asian and Japan is north north Asian.
Indian food I think of is fresh cooked nan flatbread that puffs up on a hot skillet, has to be pulled off before it burns, put on just a little of butter or ghee which is clarified butter and it melts in your mouth and chicken tika masala with a spicy red sauce slow cooked to the red color of a lobster's claw.
My Indian superheroes are Hanuman the monkey god for courage, Ganesh the elephant god for wisdom, memory and gentleness and Durga, who is the goddess of the innocent wronged who will smite the worst evildoers no matter where they might hide..
And you mention Shakespeare's Sonnet #30 which is an excellent reflection on life and a poet we neglect but who explains so much about our modern world.
People might not understand your admiration for Japan or my admiration for India. But other cultures help us better understand our own and how our differences are not there to divide us but to bring us closer to understanding the true nature of the family of all the world's people.
Thanks for another great post.
Thank you for another great comment and reflection, Larry. I'm familiar with nan bread of course, but the version served up in the UK or Japan may be different from the original. Japan is great at borrowing and then modifying. Pico Iyer wrote a fascinating essay on the subject recently in the NYT. Hence the curry bread and famous "curry rice" which are adapted from Indian recipes, I believe.
I discovered Marvel comics in 1985 in Crewkerne, Somerset. For 3 years, they were a welcome distraction from life, O- levels and A-levels. I was lucky to find them during a purple patch of content: Gruenwald's Cap, Claremont's X-Men and Frank Miller's Daredevil. You are right about them being glamorous and different. Saying that, I did love Whizzer and Chips, The Beano, Starlord, Victor, and 2000AD before them.
Thank you, James. Yes, those comics were indeed a welcome distraction from life. I also read the Beano. Somewhat monochrome by comparison, but very human and understandable.
Lovely, scent has sent me on many a memory trip-especially when followed up with a taste of a comforting food. And I am loving #30, now the second time you have brought it to me. Thank you, Jeffrey.
I'm so glad that you enjoyed it, Leslie. It's a poem that for obvious reasons seems to grow more significant with time.
Really beautiful piece!
Thank you, Charlie!
Took me awhile to get here, but what a lovely trip down memory lane - the novelty of walking down sidewalks in flimsy shoes! This might be one of your lovelier personal stories, Jeffrey. Question: Do they have cauliflower in Japan? Because that first one resembles it so much, I'm bemused they went with "melon" instead, visually if not euphonically. How amusing to discover, however, that the Japanese words for melon and cauliflower clearly have English roots? 😂