About > Erik Helin
Erik Helin
{Senior Editor}
Food only serves as a footnote in my first food memory. Incidentally, when we’re children, much like when we’re grown-ups, dining is about the experience; it is more about the sights, the smells, and the company more so than about the food itself.
When we’re children our palates are like our lives. They are undeveloped, simple and easy to satisfy, which is why we equated hunger to mascots, clowns and toys rather than top sirloin or wine selections.
My first food memory is playing in a ball pit at a McDonald’s PlayPlace — the primary colors in the pit, the store signs and Happy Meal toy. Even today when I smell cheap plastic, I think of my childhood. Although I didn’t eat at McDonald’s very often, the ritual of it— the kid-friendliness of a playground, toys, clowns, primary colors and French fries— made my few trips there unforgettable.
If you asked me today which part of the chicken the McNugget comes from, I’d be at a complete loss. And back then I think the notion of the food source would have melted my juvenile brain. But regardless, some of my happiest culinary memories are bathed in the soft glow of the Golden Arches.