Opera
Just as one cannot separate words and music to get at the mystery of opera, food and opera are more compelling together than they are apart. The most immediate connection between the two is at the mouth and throat. Singers are understandably focused on these areas and seek gustatory gratification as a means of dealing with preperformance jitters and postperformance elation and exhaustion. It is not uncommon for a singer to lose five pounds during a long evening of exertion while wearing a thirty-pound costume under hot lights.
Singers and audience members both have their dining traditions. Each tends to eat sparingly before a performance: singers to avoid feeling full (although Beverly Sills famously ate steak before going onstage) and operagoers so that they will not doze off while digesting a large meal. At intermissions some audience members have a light snack and a refreshment. Singers will seek liquid refreshment during performances—Birgit Nilsson often had a beer waiting at the side of the stage to slake her thirst. American tenor Richard Leech chomps on ice cubes to keep his mouth and throat cool.
Following performances, there is—especially in Europe—a tradition known as "souper." This is late-night eating in which the food is more festive than gastronomically challenging. The idea is to continue the sense of occasion that a night at the opera can foster. At a souper meal, whether attended by musicians, audience members, or both, dishes might include smoked fish, boiled shrimp with piquant sauces, rollmops, broths, risotto or pasta with truffles and cheese, boiled beef, and cakes, all washed down with copious amounts of wine, beer, and, especially, sparkling wine. The goal is that the food be tasty and arrive quickly. The most famous operatic depiction of souper is in the second act of Die Fledermaus by Johann Strauss Jr., in which party guests dance, sup, and sing in praise of champagne.
It is not surprising that chefs vied to create dishes to honor singers, composers, and opera characters. While performing at Covent Garden in London, the famous Australian opera singer Dame Nellie Melba dined at the nearby Savoy Hotel where the French chef Georges-Auguste Escoffier created in her honor both a form of well-browned, very dry "Melba" toast and a dessert he called "Peach Melba," consisting of a poached peach covered with vanilla ice cream and a special raspberry sauce and a garnish of chopped pistachios. Escoffier also created Sole Otello, combining the dark hues of truffle and mushroom (for Othello) with the pure white fish (for Desdemona). Luisa Tetrazzini had her famous turkey and noodles, and Gioacchino Rossini (opera's greatest gourmand) lent his name to any dish that featured truffles and foie gras. Enrico Caruso loved chicken livers, so preparations that included them bore his name. Wagner, a vegetarian, did not inspire chefs. Nor did Beethoven, who resented having to periodically stop composing to seek sustenance.
Although many operas seem to have drinking songs and choruses (in part because singers willingly consume thirst-quenching beverages onstage), there are not many eating scenes for the simple reason that food would obstruct the singers' vocal equipment. Mozart's Don Giovanni, who satisfies many appetites in the course of the opera, does dine heartily in the second act, although most interpreters of the role mime eating and ingest very little. Puccini's Tosca plays with her food in the second act until she discovers the knife that she will use to kill Scarpia. The funniest eating scene in opera comes in Rossini's L'Italiana in Algeri, in which the Italian Isabella feeds copious amounts of spaghetti to Mustafà, her Algerian captor, to distract him as she engineers her escape. As she runs to a ship in the harbor, Mustafà is dutifully twirling his pasta as he has been instructed. Surely the mezzo-soprano, once the curtain falls, will seek a bowl of noodles all her own.
See also Escoffier, Georges-Auguste; Italy.
BIBLIOGRAPHY
Plotkin, Fred. Opera 101: A Complete Guide to Learning and Loving Opera. New York: Hyperion, 1994.
Fred Plotkin
