Brad's Game

If I were to look back at my childhood and flip through the numerous happy times and amazing events that have created the person that I am today, I would be able to accumulate a massive pile of food-related memories that bring a smile to my face. Each memory is a string that weaves a web of comfort and happy times, obscuring any negative shadows in the past and revealing a level of happiness that only a child could achieve.

My mother, Linda Farmerie, has been rocking the electric range since her early teenage years to get a meal on the table and the family fed, whether for her parents, husband, or children. This could have turned her into a supplier of sustenance but instead my mother embraced the love of food and instilled it in our family. She was a pioneer of her time in 1970s suburbia USA where Wonderbread was king and Fondue was all the rage.

There is something symbolic about an animal’s head that makes it taboo territory — a culinary no go zone. Yet the knowledge of what to do with this symbolic centerpiece has become a badge of honor amongst chefs, physical proof that they live by the “waste not want not” creed of the kitchen. Tracing the road back into history shows us that fromage de tête has wavered in its appreciation from regalia for the rich to fodder for the poor. It now nestles quite firmly amongst the latter, cowering behind monikers such as brawn, souse, and scrapple on dingy diner menus.