Food and drink with rituals attached

Cafe Society
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1

Absinthe has a lot of alcohol and a potent flavor. Before drinking it, you sweeten with a little sugar, and dilute it with a lot of water. There are several (rather theatrical) rituals for doing this, described in the wiki for Absinthe. Each variation of the ritual has its own equipment: Absinthiana.

The ortolan bunting is a small bird, cooked and eaten whole.

The birds are caught with nets set during their autumn migratory flight to Africa. They are then kept in covered cages or boxes. The birds react to the dark by gorging themselves on grain, usually millet seed, until they double their bulk. The birds are then thrown into a container of Armagnac, which both drowns and marinates the birds.[13][14]

The bird is roasted for eight minutes and then plucked. The consumer then places the bird feet first into their mouth while holding onto the bird’s head. The ortolan is then eaten whole, with or without the head, and the consumer spits out the larger bones. The traditional way French gourmands eat ortolans is to cover their heads and face with a large napkin or towel while consuming the bird. The purpose of the towel is debated. Some claim it is to retain the maximum aroma with the flavour as they consume the entire bird at once, others have stated “Tradition dictates that this is to shield – from God’s eyes – the shame of such a decadent and disgraceful act”,[13] and others have suggested the towel simply hides the consumers spitting out bones.

I have heard it claimed that in Viet Nam, helicopter pilots would order a cocktail that was set ablaze. Supposedly, you would stand on your head to drink it, because the skin of your chin is less vulnerable to fire than the mucous membranes of your nose. (Or, more importantly, your mustache.)

Holy Communion. As the kids in South Park put it, “We are going to church, so we can confess our sins and eat crackers.”

What other example are there, of food or beverages, where the ritual surrounding the thing is more interesting than the thing itself?

2

I think tea in Japan is probably the obvious one.

3

In USAF a standard drink back in the day was called “afterburners”

Order a round of shooters of something flammable, usually tequila, set them all on fire, then everyone knocks theirs back & inverts the glass over their head. Anyone whose fire goes out before the glass is empty or who sets their hair on fire loses and buys the next round(s). Unlike many drinking games, this one can have multiple losers, so one round leads to two more being bought leads to 4 more being bought, etc. Extreme afterburning vomiting sometimes ensues. As best I can remember.

It was common Friday night shenanigans in my era (1980s). I can’t say whether they’re still popular, but I expect so.

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“Eu non creo nas meigas, mais habelas, hainas” (“I don’t believe in witches, but they exist.")

5

Passover.

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A “Burns Night” is a set of rituals and recitations for a Scottish-themed dinner, with the central event being a presentation of a haggis dish, while a Burns poem about the dish is recited.

https://www.haggisuk.co.uk/burns-night

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I suppose eating ortolan would qualify. They’re eaten with one’s head covered by napkin or towel because A) the aroma is intensified or B) to hide from God while committing this indulgence, or C) to cover up spitting out the bones.

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The most obvious and common dining ritual that everyone just takes for granted is in the opening of a bottle of wine. The server presents the bottle, whips out their key, cuts the foil, and pulls out the cork. The server may or may not present the cork to the diner to be sniffed. The server then pours a bit of wine and allows the diner to check it. The diner almost invariably nods, and then the server pours the full portion.

Most people don’t understand the purpose of all this. It’s not for the diner to verify that they “like” the wine. It’s to check whether the wine has become corked. You don’t need to taste the little splash in your glass to verify this, either; a quick sniff is enough because the odor is strong and distinctive. Personally, I don’t bother to taste; I just smell and (presumably) nod. Sometimes the server is confused when I do this, but at the top-end places, especially when I’m being served by a qualified sommelier, I occasionally see a small smile of recognition. Most people don’t know the basis for the sample pour, so they treat it as a “do you like the wine?” test, which is wrong.

Modern production, distribution, and cellar management practices in the wine industry has made corking an increasingly rare problem. In thirty years of fine dining, I’ve never been presented a corked bottle. Nevertheless, the practice persists, and everybody goes through the motions because it’s part of the experience. Pretty much the definition of a ritual.

For another category of ritual, you could consider dishes that are prepared tableside. For example, if you’ve ever been to a high-end steakhouse, you might have seen an offer for Caesar salad to be made this way. The server pushes a wheeled cart to your table, bearing all the ingredients and equipment needed to assemble the salad. Usually, they make the dressing first, directly in the serving bowl, often incorporating various theatrical flourishes. Then they bring in the body of the salad, swirling and tossing to distribute the dressing over the greens. It doesn’t really improve the flavor or anything, but the fact that it’s prepared in front of you fools your brain into perceiving it as “fresher” and therefore better. You can see a sample video of one restaurant’s presentation here.

Another highly ritualistic tableside preparation is Canard à la presse (pressed duck), sometimes called Canard au sang (literally, duck with blood). In this dish, a whole duck is roasted until done to rare. The duck is then carved, removing the thighs and breasts. The thighs are set aside to be served in the following course. The carcass that remains is placed in a special device with a screw-down center, which slowly compresses the duck’s body to squeeze out the fluids — not just the blood, but also pulverizing the bones to extract the marrow. This liquid is added back into the wine-based sauce over which the duck was originally roasted, and the breast is sliced very thin and presented in this combined sauce.

The reason it’s a ritual is that all of this is done at your table, or at least in the dining room in view of the diner. You can watch a sample video here. This whole process could be done in the kitchen and the finished plate simply brought out and served, but the tradition of the dish — the ritual — is that the process is laboriously performed for the enjoyment of the person who ordered it.

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As featured in the book (and movie) Someone Is Killing the Great Chefs of Europe. Gruesome, but hysterical.

Unlike you, I have gotten a corked bottle of wine. It never got to the “Pour and sip” stage. The wine jockey smelled the odor immediately and replaced the bottle.

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Flambéed desserts.
Liquid nitrogen ice cream.

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I came with the ortolon, but you got it in the OP.

I have a theory…that the reason for the towel is that no one actually eats them. it’s an elaborate joke. Like some frat boy “coming on a cracker” ritual. The joke is that they got you to try.

hey, I’m just asking questions here…

12

Guacamole

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Kopstootje (Dutch drinking ritual):

The ritual begins with a nearly overflowing, tulip-shaped glass of ice-cold genever. The Dutch spirit consists of malt wine (a distillate of rye, corn, and barley) blended with herbs and spices, such as juniper.

< snip >

Tiny tulip cup before them, Dutch drinkers lower their heads to the brimming glass perched on the bar. Without using their hands, they take a slurp of the aromatic spirit, completing the “little head-butt.” - SOURCE

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I was taught you never smell the cork. You are just smelling cork and wine. Instead, you check to see if the cork is crumbly which suggests the cork has gone bad. Definitely smell/taste the wine to verify if it has gone bad. Smelling the wine is much better than smelling the cork for this purpose.

Some diners might be tempted to sniff the cork before they place it back on the table — a practice that, Beavers explains, can be used to see if a wine is corked. It might not be worth your time to do this, though. “There is no science to prove that smelling a cork is an indication of cork taint in the bottle,” he says. “There’s also this weird thought that smelling the cork is like smelling the wine. If you’re smelling the cork, you’re just smelling the wine soaked into an organic material that has its own aromas.” - SOURCE

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Memory is not strong here but isn’t there something about bashing Irish soda bread against the wall on New Year’s? A ritual way of breaking it up before serving perhaps. Haphazard Googling suggests the origin was a celebration of the end of famine.

A lot of Christmas foods seem to have an aspect of ritual about their preparation. For example, a pan of Yorkshire pudding batter set underneath the dripping roast as they both cook. This is perhaps a logical way of making Yorkshire pudding, but it’s a food many people eat just once a year, and it’s prepared in a way nothing else is. Similarly, perhaps, the boiling of Christmas pudding.

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You were taught correctly. That’s why I said you “may or may not be presented the cork.” It doesn’t tell you anything, but some people like to do it. But it’s definitely not a meaningful test.

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I was thinking saginaki with its catchphrase: “Opa!”

Birthday cake (song & candles) and wedding cake (cutting ceremony) rituals are really about the event and not ‘what’s under the icing.’ King cake?

Fortune cookies?

Wonka bars?

Edit: breaking the wishbone.
Halloween candy & easter baskets earned the old fashioned way.

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In high school we had a field trip to downtown Chicago. We went to Greektown for lunch (two bus loads of kids). It seemed every table ordered saganaki. There were loud, boisterous “OPA!” happening all around us but, by the time we got ours (last table served), the waiter had clearly tired of the whole thing and we got a barely mumbled and weak “opa” out of him.

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And no talking until the birthday kid takes the first bite.

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As introduced by Dana Carvey in The Master of Disguise:

http://mobile.idrink.com/showdrink.ihtml?id=50699

“You must slap-a da balls!”