From the scenes of the kitchen staff who worked for the upper class British Marryot family in 1932’s Best Picture, “Cavalcade” to Ernest Borgnine’s portrayal of a lonely butcher in “Marty” of 1955, food has appeared in both starring and supporting roles.

I set out over the course of the past two months to record a historical tome that would capture every nugget, each bite, every spoonful of culinaria found in film. Yet I quickly discovered that the subject was such an onerous one that it would literally take months, if not years, to provide you with an accurate historical volume on the subject. And seeing that Oscar is three weeks early this year, my goal quickly faded into the reality of not meeting my deadline – akin to not wrapping up a film shoot on time or on budget, a self-defeating proposition in the entertainment business.

I then turned to the idea of trying to create a menu for an Oscar night party with dishes based on the five movies nominated this year for Best Picture-

I came up with what proved to be all sorts of ridiculous and inane sounding dishes like “Sea Biscuit-Seared Sea Scallops with Sesame “Biscuits” and Wasabi “Foam.” It was, from a flavor and texture standpoint, a quite successful appetizer. Yet it was silly and embarrassing, a play on words that had nothing to do with the concession stand foods that were served at Pimlico Race Track in Baltimore in 1938. Most Americans weren’t even aware of what Wasabi was back then. They were gulping down hot dogs and Budweiser on that exciting November day when Sea Biscuit charged to the wire, beating War Admiral for racing glory.

I then turned my creative focus toward writing a script for my own Governor’s Ball – you know, the party that the Academy sponsors after the glad-handing in the Kodak Theatre is finished.

Chef Wolfgang Puck has been the executive producer of this blockbuster for many years, and his menu always includes his signature Smoked Salmon Pizza with Caviar and those little solid-chocolate Oscar statuettes flaked with pure gold leaf.

For last year’s 75th Academy Awards Governors Ball, Chef Puck offered this menu to the likes of Nicole Kidman, Adrien Brody and Catherine Zeta-Jones:

Good God. Food glorious food! I doubt any of them went home hungry. Imagine, a doggy bag filled with caviar and lobster salad. Only in Hollywood.

For my own Governor’s Ball, I thought it would be classy to present courses of dishes from previous Balls. I was absolutely sure that those past menus were filled with dishes that had been showcased in the nominated films for that particular year. Surely I would find a recipe for authentic Italian tomato sauce just like the one Clemenza made in “The Godfather” (1972). What about some Medieval recipes from the Best Picture of 1966, “A Man for All Seasons.” Henry the VIII was always known to enjoy good food and drink, he even tore into birds with his hands for goodness sake.

Sure, I found plenty of neat recipes from famous films, like the one for a “Chabela Tart” from “Like Water for Chocolate,” (1992), a story about old-fashioned love set in Mexico in the 1920’s. But I wasn’t feeling a connection with my audience. I wasn’t going to be putting forth my best work on screen, I would only be typing some words on the page. And that would most certainly not result in an award-winning performance or a standing ovation.

What I came to realize, in a sort of “the light bulb just went on over my head” sort of way, is that each of us senses something very different, very unique and very personal when we watch a movie.

The emotions I feel, the sensations, the tastes, the smells, the picture that is created in my mind when I watch a great movie are the exact same emotions I experience when I create a memorable recipe. The passion that I felt when Meryl Streep kissed Jeremy Irons in “The French Lieutenant’s Woman,” (1981), is akin to the passion I feel for dipping sweet, succulent strawberries in bittersweet chocolate and sharing them with the woman of my dreams. Emphasis on the word ‘dream.’

I don’t have to be spellbound by a dramatic film to feel an emotional tie to the characters and their dinner. My favorite scene, in fact all the scenes in the movie are my favorite, in “Animal House” (1978), was the sight of John Bluto Blutarsky (John Belushi), sucking down plates of Jell-o and then seeing the entire cafeteria erupt into that famous food fight. “That boy is a pig I say, P-I-G pig.”

All that flying food brought back very real memories of my own college days as a brother of Delta Chi fraternity at Oregon State University. And I suppose it is for that reason that I so dearly love watching “Animal House” to this day. All the spewing beer, the raunchy humor, dancing to Otis Day and the Knights, bridges a personal connection to my college days.

And it seems to me that is exactly what happens to you when you see an academy award winning film, or any great movie for that matter. You form a personal connection to the story and to the characters. You are in the courtroom, sitting in the jury box during the trial in “Philadelphia” (1993). You cry with sadness for the young and talented attorney Andrew Beckett (Tom Hanks), as a victim of both unfairness and the scourge of AIDS. You praise the achievement of his attorney Joe Miller (Denzel Washington), a black man who has experienced discrimination throughout his own life, yet initially finds it difficult to equate that with the experiences of his client. Ultimately, Miller’s eloquent appeal to the jury leads to Beckett’s victory for personal rights, even as he loses his struggle with his disease.

And we feel the love of family in “State Fair” (1945), as the patriarch of Iowa’s Frake family, Abel Frake, (Charles Winninger), wins the trophy for his prize-winning hog “Blue Boy.” And Mother, Melissa Frake, (Fay Bainter), surprises the other contestants when she wins one of the pie baking contests.

So I thought about which film with a food theme has left the greatest impression on me. Which movie, more than any other, do I think about when I think about the connection between food and film. There’s quite a slate of films from which to choose, from “Eat, Drink, Man, Woman” (1994), to “Who’s Killing the Great Chefs of Europe,” (1978), the list is endless. How can I ever just choose one?

But if I was asked to choose just one film, my answer would come quickly and without wavering: “Babette’s Feast,” winner of the Best Foreign Film of 1987.

If you have not seen “Babette’s Feast,” I suggest you wait for a rainy Saturday. Rainy, dark and damp, the same sort of stormy weather off the coast of Norway portrayed in the film. Then go buy the DVD and plan on wrapping yourself in a blanket, set some candles about the room, turn off the lights and turn on the television. You will be transported back to 19th century Denmark.

The story revolves around two sisters, Martine and Phillipa, living on a remote island. Their Father is the village priest and founder of a tiny Lutheran sect with a strict devotion to Puritanism and piety.

Although Martine and Phillipa are both given opportunities to leave the island and find fame and fortune in Europe, they remain with their Father and in service to the Lord.

One day a woman named Babette turns up at their door. Babette has been sent by a man who was once a suitor to Phillipa. He asks the sisters to take Babette into their home in order to escape the revolution in France. They do not know of Babette’s past, that she was once one of Paris’s greatest chefs.

Babette is resigned to a simple daily life of cleaning and cooking – the main dish being a soup made out of stale bread and dried cod.

But one day Babette receives a note. Much to her surprise she finds that she has won the lottery and come into a great fortune. This news comes upon the 100th birthday of the sisters’ Father who passed away some time ago.

While the Sisters are fully prepared to bid Babette goodbye and to see her take her wealth back to Paris, Babette surprises them and the village with plans to create a celebration feast. Only Babette carries the secret that she is a great chef.

It is that feast that becomes the centerpiece of this film.

Babette goes down to the waterfront to greet the boat when it arrives with her special order; bottles of Veuve Clicquot champagne and other fine wines, live quail and fist-sized, pungent black truffles. To the horror of the onlooking villagers, a huge, live snapping turtle is hauled from the boat.

I am rapt with anticipation as I watch Babette and a young boy prepare the special meal; plucking the feathers from the quail and preparing the pastry “sacarphogus” in which the birds will roast.

A special guest is attending dinner this evening, a decorated officer in the French army. Surely he will appreciate the gourmet feast that Babette has prepared.

But the villagers are not so sure as they sit down at the table. Hasn’t God taught us that fine French food is evil? Is it not a sin to partake in the mind-numbing effects of wine? Wine should only be drunk in the celebration of communion in the church.

Babette’s feast was made up of the finest dishes and wines served at her restaurant in Paris:

Potage a’la Tortue
(Turtle Soup)
§
Blini Demidoff au Caviar
(Buckwheat cakes with caviar)
§
Caille en Sarcophage avec Sauce Perigourdine
(Quail in Puff Pastry Shell with Foie Gras and Truffle Sauce)
§
La Salade
(Salad Course)
§
Les Fromages
(Cheese and Fresh Fruit)
§
Baba au Rhum avec les Figues
(Rum Cake with Dried Figs)

And after prayer, the dinner begins. The wine is opened and poured, the turtle soup ladled into each bowl. Next, tiny pancakes garnished with odd looking, fishy smelling little black eggs. Ah, a quick look of surprise in the eye of the French Officer. Caviar! And Champagne!

And then, as the guests are beginning to sip another glass of vintage wine, the aroma of something special wafts through the dining room; “Caille en Sarcophage avec Sauce Perigourdine.” It is a masterpiece. One of the finest of the finest of classical French dishes served only in Paris’s finest restaurants. Tender, gamey quail stuffed with foie gras and encased in a puff pastry shell, swimming in a pool of black truffles hand-picked in the Perigord region of France. Rare bottles of “Clos de Vougeot” are poured into crystal goblets.

Dinner ends with a fabulous rum cake with glaceé and fresh fruits.

How can this be, the Officer asks himself. I know of only one chef, a woman, and a genius, who served these dishes at a luxurious meal I had in Paris. Could it be her, tonight? Has the art of her cuisine touched us tonight? I leave that for you to answer when you watch the film.

There have been numerous pieces written about the religious symbols in this film, some pointing to the generosity of Babette akin to the generosity of God. But it is the subtle messages of love and the pleasure that the meal brings to the guests that is what I find so special about “Babette’s Feast.”