Carol Goodman Kaufman

Music

Continuing on a Theme of Scoville Units and Decibels

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“Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast,

To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak.”

(William Congreve The Mourning Bride, 1697)

I think it’s pretty clear from the fact that I write about food that I love it. And, between the dial on my radio, the CD player, and summers volunteering at Tanglewood, summer home of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, it is probably no secret that I love music.

Combining the two can deepen the experience of being with friends and family. Whether a picnic on the lawn at Tanglewood or dinner around the table, music can enhance both the flavors and the atmosphere of breaking bread.

What I cannot abide is the ear-splitting music at too many restaurants. Last month we had an absolutely delicious dinner at a Greek restaurant. When the waitstaff came out to perform authentic folk dances, complete with smashing dishes, we were delighted at the unexpected addition to the evening. However, we were less than thrilled when the decibel level of the accompanying music was set to “deafening.”  Worse, when asked to turn down the volume, the manager refused.

As long as I’m ranting, it’s just not cool when the music at a wedding (or bar mitzvah, quinceañera, or candidate’s election night party) is so loud that guests have to repair to the lobby in order to have a conversation. If I go to the trouble to get all farpitzs for an evening out (as opposed to my writing uniform of jeans and slippers), I want to enjoy the glow.

I wonder what Congreve would say if he were to wander into the Hard Rock Café today. His savage breast might just heave up and throttle the inventor of the amplifier.

Phew. Glad I got that off my chest.

Too Much Pepper in My Paprikash

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9f07b458fee72cec2641a72e8f9aaa68A long time ago I attended a Billy Joel concert with hubby and friends. Seated across the aisle from us was the artist’s then-wife, Christie Brinkley, and their toddler child. (I did say this was a long time ago). Both mother and child were wearing the type of ear protectors that one sees worn by airport workers out on the tarmac. They needed them because the music was almost-literally ear-splitting. I had to cover my ears the entire evening.

What does this have to do with my usual gig, writing about food? Hot pepper.

Hot peppers have become all the rage. The higher the Scoville rating a pepper has, the greater the bragging rights among its fans who eat them. With names like Carolina Reaper and Bhut Jolokia Ghost Pepper, I can practically see the smoke coming out of their ears.

While the high concentration of capsaicin found in hot peppers, when incorporated into an ointment or cream, can help people deal with pain, certain varieties of hot peppers can be dangerous when consumed. Capsaicin is actually a neurotoxin and in large enough doses can cause seizures, heart attacks, and even death.

Historically, the hot pepper had a purpose. In fact, anthropologists believe that it may have helped to ensure the survival of some cultures. Before refrigeration was common, people living in tropical and subtropical climates needed a way to preserve their food. Hot peppers can help protect against the growth of bacteria and fungi. In fact, researchers at Cornell University have found that capsaicin kill or inhibit up to 75% of bacteria in food.

But aside from those reasons, what is their purpose on our dinner plates? With apologies to Harry Burns of When Harry Met Sally fame, when there’s too much pepper in your paprikash, you can’t taste the food.

It’s like going to a concert and not being able to hear the music for all the noise.