Salon’s new essay series, “Pinched,” about living in times of recession, is so far, so good. This piece about a mother who had to take her kids to a soup kitchen for the first time (found via Tanene) is definitely worth reading:
“A few months out of the crisis, and with a little money in my pocket, I bought a $3 wedge of brie. This is laughable, I know. I’m a goddamn parody of myself, with all my bougie aspirations and affectations. But when I unwrapped the cheese at home, I remembered suddenly the soup kitchen: the thick smell of beans and onions, the hard light coming through the naked windows, Ivan taking a bite of day-old Danish and spitting it out because he was used to better. I had to fight the urge to return the brie. It felt wasteful and indulgent. When I did eat it, I thought about all the things food means to us, all the things it stands in for. We may joke about brie, or expensive wine, or organic tomatoes, but food reminds us of who we are, who we’re supposed to be. Brie says, I’m not poor and I’m well educated and I’m responsible, a good mother. I will never be hungry. We try to believe all these things don’t matter, but it’s like closing your eyes and believing no one can see you.”
