Anna Andrea Winther

Food is a daily need and pleasure. Every day you decide what to eat. It is important to you that the food is trustworthy, familiar and pleasing to your senses.

You sit by the living room table and you take out two pale brown squares from a plastic wrap that are squished up to a white, softer square. The smell reminds you of tea at grandma‘s, school trips and coffee breaks. You know what it is going to taste like when your teeth bite through the crunchy shell and enter the soft centre, how it gets wet and slimy when it comes in contact with your saliva and how the smell shoots up into your nostrils.

But, this time curiosity gets the upper hand. You clumsily take apart the squares and scrape off the white centre with your nails. You are surprised how dry, at the same time oily it is when you roll it into a ball. With the palms of your hand, you crumple the shells into a blender, making a bit of noise. You flip the blender over and powder streams out of it and covers the table in front of you. You think its fun how it forms together like play-dough.

You become doubtful and decide you are not comfortable with this. You miss the familiarity of the form, you don‘t want to eat the oily ball or the play-dough powder. You form the sand into squares and flatten out the ball, then put it together as you please to look like its previous form. It is not the same.

In this piece, I think about interactions between people and food-products through the phenomenon of cream biscuits from Frón. The biscuits are a factory-made idea of nostalgia, the home and a promise of ease. I‘ve come up with a method to dissect it and make an attempt to get to know the material itself. What is left when the idea is shredded up and put back together again?