Pyscho

You may have a heard of a little film that came out in 1960 called Psycho. In fact, I'm so sure you've heard of it, I won't bore you with the synopsis or pop culture impact it made. We're just here for the food, so let's dive right in.

Sandwiches are the primary food in this movie. When the film opens, the first line of the script is "you never did eat your lunch did you?" As Sam gets dressed and Marion lies in bed, we see an empty pitcher of water, an unopened soda pop, and an unwrapped neatly cut in half sandwich on the nightstand. The script refers to it as an egg salad sandwich. Alfred Hitchcock famously hated eggs, so it's no surprise Marion never ate her egg salad sandwich. What is a sandwich? It is a filling between two pieces of bread, fittingly, the verb 'to sandwich' means to squeeze someone or something between two other people or things, often uncomfortably- just as Marion has squeezed this romantic interlude between work and lunch. You could say Sam is sandwiched between Marion's reality and her desires; she never does eat that sandwich. They go on to discuss their relationship in food terms. The next meal will be a respectable dinner, in a house, with a framed picture of Marion's mother on the mantle, broiling a big steak.

Later, Marion meets Norman. He graciously offers dinner in his mother's house, a meal Sam couldn't fathom even with Marion's prompting. The parlor scene is my favorite. It reveals so much about each character, but also gives a glimpse of the love story that could've been if we weren't in it for the horror. This is the first real conversation we've seen so far. It seems to be the first conversation in which Marion is not preyed upon, and ogled. Norman appears carrying a tray of all American wholesomeness. A pitcher of milk, a sandwich spread. Marion admits she's overheard the argument between Norman and his mother and he shows her more consideration than Sam ever hinted at. He seems kind, shy, unassuming as he invites her into his parlor. The parlor, however, shows us things to come. Framed rapes upon the wall, birds of prey hovering overhead. He encourages her to eat while he watches, its all for her. To eat is to become satiated, becoming satiated leads to comfort and unawareness of one's surroundings. Eating means you feel safe, you are comfortable. Norman, however, keeps the advantage to himself by luring Marion into comfort, but not taking comfort for himself. She can not take advantage of him, we're not entirely sure he won't take advantage of her, if the parlor is any indication, Marion is right to 'eat like a bird', and keep her senses about her. It doesn't go unnoticed by Norman. Even without dialogue this scene is dance between two villains or two stars. Which will it be?


Marion takes a bite of ham. Do you know what's interesting about cured ham? "Its cheap really, you know needles, thread, sawdust.. the chemicals are the only thing that cost anything." Salt the pork, take a needle, thread twine through it and hang it up, then you wet your sawdust and smoke it. It could be just as interesting a hobby as taxidermy for Norman, and you can eat it too, just like Ed Gein. Marion butters her bread, clenches her hands into talons, and rips her meal into pieces. Perhaps the Crane will stuff herself.  Once again we're dealing with sandwiches- Marion sandwiched between Norman and his mother, sandwiched between Phoenix and Fairvale, between her blood family and her future family. She just can't get enough sandwiches. Only this time, she rips the sandwich into pieces before finally eating it much like "Mrs" Bates shreds Marion while preying upon her.

The film's dessert is sweet and simple candy corn. The idea of Norman Bates chewing Kandy Korn is attributed to Anthony Perkins. It is said that he wanted to chew on something to show a nervous tic, and that the candy corn made him appear as a chicken eating feed. Candy Corn is another simple, sweet, all american food. Hitchcock really wanted to get under the skin of ordinary americana. Marion and Norman are simple people with simple lives, all he had to offer was "nothing more than some sandwiches and a lot of milk." He didn't "set a fancy table but the kitchen's awful homey." Good familiar things gone sinister. The gracious hospitality and familiar eats are a big part of what makes us comfortable with Norman Bates.

If you'd something to eat while you view this classic, but feel a bit famished of bloodshed, try this sweet and smoky spread on toast. You can eat like a bird, just like Marion:




Candied Corn Gone a Little Nuts

• 1 cup almonds
• water
• juice of 1 lime
• 2 TBS olive oil
• 1-2 chipotle peppers (in adobo)
• 2 ears of corn
• small onion
• 2 TBS coconut oil
• 2 TBS maple syrup
• 1 tsp sage
• salt and pepper to taste

Soak almonds in water 1 hour or more. (If you have a high powered blender you can skip this step). Mix the coconut oil, maple syrup, and sage together. Slice onion thinly and cook over medium heat. You want to caramelize them. Leave them alone while you peel the corn and cover it in the maple syrup mixture. Pour any extra syrup right into the onions. Roast the corn in a 400 degree oven for 35-40 minutes. While that's cooking you can stir your onions every 5-10 minutes and turn the heat off when they are browned to your liking.  Drain the almonds and add them to your blender. Add the olive oil, juice of 1 lime, 1 chipotle pepper (more if you want it spicy), and 1/2 cup water. Blend until it makes a thick paste. It should resemble a cross between cream cheese and crumbled feta. Taste and adjust seasonings. Once you pull the corn out of the oven, pour any syrup that ran off  of it into your onions. Let the corn cool enough to handle. Slice it off the cob. In a small bowl, mix together the almonds, corn, and onions. Taste and add salt and pepper as needed. Serve as a dip or spread.

If you'd like some blood on the side, the spread would be delightful with a slice of ham.