A recent study has shown that food tastes best when served with quiet classical music and conversation in the background. , Photo Credit: Illustration by SAAI
Shakespeare’s immortal quote, ‘If music be love’s food, play, give me plenty of it,’ is arguably one of the earliest examples of an attempt to combine food with music. Others have since taken the Bard’s quote literally and turned it on its head. To remove any ambiguity, in the quote, food is employed as a metaphor for the fulfillment of Young Love’s heart, not her stomach. We’re familiar with the misogynistic adage that tells a housewife that the best way to her husband’s heart is through his stomach. In our enlightened, gender-neutral times, we would regard this as an inexcusable solipsism.
When contemplating food and music, Chennai music season is upon us and thoughts turn to Thodi and Kalyani as they think of delicious bajjis, bondas, almond halwas and glasses of steaming, hot coffee . However, I have no desire to take you on a gastronomic tour of the Sabha canteens of Chennai and give you a price quote about the dishes on offer; A topic on which many writers have worked seriously over the years, including yours. My mandate is something different.
Do food and music have a symbiotic relationship? That’s the question I’m struggling with. You are what you eat, some people may have an objection to this. Interestingly, an international study on this topic, Music to Eat By, concluded that there is empirical evidence to establish that listening to music while eating is associated with longer eating periods compared to eating without music. Therefore, the relationship between eating and enjoying a leisurely Bhairavi essay by an artist is beneficial for the digestive process. Studies show that the slower the music, the longer it will take you to eat the same amount of food, resulting in more efficient chewing and digestion. QED? Hmm. I’m undecided, but clearly this obsession with healthy foods and revolutionary eating habits goes out the window. The much-publicized, new-wave eating style of fasting for 11 hours before eating two slices of bread is ridiculous. Simply listen to a 20-minute rendition of the late MD Ramanathan’s melodious essay of Raga Kedaram and schedule your three-course meal with the maestro’s offering. Your digestive enzymes will sing hosannas (or thillanas) to your pancreas. You must be a healthier man than me, dumb day.
On the contrary, I would assume that the opposite may be equally true. If it was the light-speed Kamboji Swaraprasthaara of the brilliant, iconoclastic maestro, the late GN Balasubramaniam that you ate, your attempt to keep pace with your food intake may be wreaking havoc on your digestive system. I’m just guessing here. I’m no gastroenterologist, but I’m a die-hard fan of GNB’s path-breaking music, and I wouldn’t risk speed-matching my lunch with his exciting pyrotechnics. I would allow that the Music Academy be provided with well equipped, clean toilets. Although I have no desire to break Usain Bolt’s sprint record, I, holding my stomach, run into its sacred sanctuary every time the current GNB wannabe passes the roof of Brigus.
Some of the major auditoriums in Chennai, which come with attached canteens during the season, provide sound systems to the gastronomes, allowing you to enjoy the music being presented inside the auditorium. Although this is a deliberate move on the part of the congregations, it is axiomatic that the crowd gathering around the canteen will be in inverse proportion to the quality of the music being performed. If the canteen is extremely crowded, the performer on stage must be a nervous newcomer or a very old artiste. If the canteen is almost empty, a 5-star marquee singer is serenading the entire house. It’s a simple equation, formed over years of observing this unique, intuitive reciprocity that you only get during a music session, when canteen cuisine and performing arts fight for primacy.
I recently read somewhere about a study that showed that food tastes best when served with quiet classical music and background conversation. Considering this survey as authentic, it was probably conducted in a western country. I came to that naive conclusion only because here in Chennai, just a hint of background conversation cannot be heard, no matter how quiet the music. Our conversations in canteens, when every table is full and people are sitting literally glued to each other, jostling for space, trying to get their share of idli and chutney into their mouths in double quick time If we do, today’s thunderous taunt will be even louder than Avtaranam. Much of the increased decibel level has to do with impatient and hungry patrons yelling at the servers to take their orders. Sometimes things can go out of hand. ‘I ordered Ven Pongal, not Tomato Upma.’
In recent years, the customer profile at Sabha canteens has had little to do with Carnatic music lovers. People from other communities like affluent Marwaris and Gujaratis living nearby, conspicuous by their absence in the kachari, come to these ‘music canteens’ in large numbers, much to the consternation of our angry uncles, aunties and mavens. . “Why can’t they go to a proper hotel? The gatherings should allow only those people who can tell the difference between Kalyani and Shankarabharanam. Now there is an idea.
The Vox Populi have spoken. Are congregations paying attention?
published – November 28, 2024 04:58 PM IST
