We just watched Ratatouille, which I wanted to see in the theater but never did. It was — as expected — great. Pixar can’t fail.
There is a great scene at the end, when the looming and gray and dour food critic tastes the dish that the chef has prepared. He lifts the fork to his lips and tastes it, and the scene focuses on his face. His eyes go wide, the camera zooms out, and suddenly the old critic is transformed into a small boy, standing in the doorway of his house sniffling because he’s fallen off his bike and skinned his knee. His mom sits him down at the kitchen table and serves him the same dish that he’s just been served so many years later in the restaurant. He remembers that day, and the food takes him back.
I think that summarizes the appeal of the movie. It’s about food, about a rat that can cook. But it’s really about the emotional connection that people have to food, and how good food can really make your day.
Yesterday I wrote a list of why my day had been so nice. After I published, I realized that many of the items on my list were food-related. Coffee. Grilled cheese. Hot chocolate. Even water. I had a couple other things I could have written as well (for instance, Kelleen made some totally awesome brownies for the evening sim), but I didn’t because it seemed too weird to make a list where fully half of the things that happened to me related to eating.
But it did. I don’t particularly like to cook, but that doesn’t change the fact that good food makes me happy. I can’t really see anything wrong with that.
