When I was writing Beige and Blue, I stumbled across certain scenes where Samar went to a date with Bassel and when she sat for dinner with the Abu Khalid family. Since I wrote my book in the English language for the entire world to read, I wanted to be more detailed about the description of middle eastern food found on the table.
That’s a routine that I always do in my novels; I like to mention traditional Jordanian dishes and to be descriptive about how they smell, taste and look. Sometimes I even describe how they’re cooked. So what’s the big deal? Why is it so important? Let me tell you why.
Five senses
Describing food lights up certain parts of your brain when you read a book. That’s because you’re five senses come into play when you mention how that succulent steak tastes like or the way it melts in your mouth when you chew. You can even describe the hot mug of coffee the character is drinking and how the aroma fills up space. Things like that make the reader feel part of the story.
Food for the body is not enough. There must be food for the soul.
Dorothy Day
Vegan, vegetarian, or allergic?
Let’s say that your character is on an airplane, and the stewardess serves her a meal with rice and meat stew. Your character cringes when she stares at the meat. She might be vegetarian, or perhaps allergic. It’s interesting to describe how the meal looks like from her point of view. Maybe the dish might be savory for people, yet since the character is vegan or vegetarian, she might describe it in an unappetizing manner.
Dishes from various cultures
I can never forget Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner and the mention of the naan bread. I was young when I read that novel, and I never knew what naan bread was. So I looked it up, and now I always associate this bread to the Afghani culture and that novel in particular.
To finish, I suggest that you activate all your senses when you write about food in your novels. The reader will associate and understand your feelings towards that popular dish. Eventually, we all love to eat, don’t you?