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I’m in the process of writing a novel that takes place in and around a coffee bar. I was weaned on espresso, so this isn’t surprising, but I’ve noticed that my taste in movies and my taste in food play against one another.

First of all, whether I’m reading or watching a DVD, I respond to the weather and the food I’m seeing. There’s a funky independent film called Caffeine that takes place in an English cafe (though fully half the main cast is American), and I love it. Ditto Waitress with all those pies. Pies and Nathan Fillion actually. A perfect combination, that.

When I was in high school, weekends would involve a mother-daughter trip to the bookstore or libarary, the fabric store, and a tiny cafe called Le Croissant where they served the most incredible strawberry-and-sweet-cream croissants and perfect cappucinos. In college, and later just as a citizen of the San Francisco Bay area, my friends and I would hang out, not at pubs, but at cafes. Our favorites were Beau’s Seventh Heaven in the Haight (Asian owned, specializing in Italian coffee and Russian pastry, and with a name taken from the French - gotta love it), and Mission City Coffee Roasting Company in Santa Clara, the latter serving as the model for the cafe in my novel.

As I grew older, my friends and I would have theme dinners - somewhat like the “Dinner and a Movie” nights on WE or TBS, or whatever cable channel is doing them. If we were watching The Joy Luck Club, for example, we’d dress with an Asian flair and go out for Chinese food before viewing the film. If we were watching a musical, we’d go to Mel’s Diner, or a similar retro-themed burger-and-malts sort of place.

Needless to say, some of our favorite movies were set in and around restaurants. (Note to self: you still haven’t seen No Reservations.)

I’m the same with books. Nero Wolfe is a longtime favorite, and so are the works of Dianne Mott Davidson. There’s a mystery set in San Francisco called The Sourdough Wars, and I defy anyone to read it and not immediately head to their local artisan bakery for clam chowder in a bread bowl.

This spring, I’ve been watching, not movies, but the television show Top Chef, and let me just say, this is not a show to watch when you’re hungry. Seriously, it’s worse than going grocery shopping when you’re hungry. If I hadn’t found quick & easy cookbooks for both the Zone and South Beach diets at Half Price Books, I’d be thinking about suing Bravo for excess weight gain due to watching their show.

Bravo, of course, would look at my history: Grew up with a great-grandfather who owned the food concession at Fort Hancock, and a grandfather who baked fresh bread for fun. Spent summer’s hanging out (read: spinning on the blue vinyl stools until sick) at cousin’s vintage diner, or catching blue fish from the pier. First college job was as a barista in campus cafe. First summer job in college was as barista and bookseller in local cafe… I’d be doomed.

Food, books and movies are impossible for me to separate.
I think it’s genetic.

Posted by Melissa in Lifestyle |

This entry was posted on Wednesday, April 9th, 2008 at 3:00 am and is filed under Lifestyle. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.